#trying out some lighter lining and doesn't look terrible

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Cringetober Day Two: Self-Insert

stapling myself to Riot Kings. My coworkers always joke that I belong in a revolution, time to make that happen I guess

[rubykgrant]

I've been slowly re-doing/adjusting my RVB face designs, and also working on more characters! It will eventually be a LOT, but for now; here are the main Reds, Blues, Freelancers, Doc, plus a bonus of Locus, Flowers, and my OC Poppy (just for the fun of it~). I love designing characters, and playing around with features so everybody has different noses, mouths, chins/jaw-lines, etc. For everybody, I have two versions. The first being their signature armor color, and then their actual people colors. I also wanted to include things like facial hair, glasses, scars, freckles and what-not (like Donut's hearing aide and Carolina's eye shadow, because she can't NOT be edgey haha).

(below is some design descriptions and notes on my thought process for everybody. it is a LOT, don't feel obligated to read it~)

Grif and Simmons both clash and compliment each other not only in personality, but in physical features as well (Simmons is sharp, and Grif is soft). I wanted to show that Simmons actually isn't as scrawny and gawky as he used to be, but he hasn't totally registered that he's finally "grown into himself", or that some muscles have happened (once he does, this unlocks "Confident Simmons", and nobody is safe. for now, he's just too used to feeling awkward). Simmons has a fairly strong jawline, an aquiline nose, and hair the color of red clay. He's had his hair very short and properly styled for many years, but after Chorus it started to grow out, and when he pulled it back to see how much he needed to trim, he realized he liked being a ponytail guy! (also, it isn't visually shown here, but trans Simmons is real~) Grif is a big guy, fat and pretty darn strong with thick limbs, and rough around the edges. He's also handsome and beautiful (not "in spite" of those features, but BECAUSE of them). His features are like a combination of rebellious and charming, with his default expression being chill. He has warm copper brown skin, and hair that reaches his shoulders, dark brown, very thick and wavy (it also magically never gets tangled). You can see where Simmons' cyborg prosthetics match the same area where Grif got his skin grafts, but over the years Grif has sort of "absorbed" the organic material, and the skin is a shade darker than when the surgery was fresh (Simmons himself isn't too terribly pale, but still lighter than Grif). Grif occasionally shaves or lets his beard grow in more full, but usually likes to keep just a little bit of face-fuzz around his chin

Sarge is very boxy and built like a brick. I enjoy the irony of a character who has a very BIG personality being somewhat short in stature, and Sarge is certainly a little bundle of dynamite. Despite his claims of only being 29, he somewhere in his 50s (possibly getting into 60s), but still going strong. I wanted to show the age lines around his mouth and his eyes, so he doesn't just look weirdly "smooth" (this man is basically leather, and proud of it. he also has larger earlobes, and bushy eyebrows). His hair has gone white and gray, kept in a perpetual buzz-cut, and he has some scruffy facial hair. He's broken both his nose and his jaw several times in his life, resulting in some unique shapes. Most of his scars happened years ago when he was younger, but the scar on the side of his head is from getting shot during Blood Gulch. He's rather pale thanks to wearing the armor every day for a few decades. His "solution" was to try and sun burnt on purpose so he'll be RED again, but Donut, Simmons, and Doc stopped him before it got too bad. He typically looks very grumpy and stern, but we all know Sarge is EXPRESSIVE with his emotions

My thought process with Donut was to combine Barbie with GI Joe; very pretty, but also pretty darn strong! He has sort of a "soft diamond" shape to his face and jawline. He looks very sweet, but has the potential to be INTIMIDATING. In the past, his hair was light blonde, but turned a strawberry-brown as he got older. During Blood Gulch, when he got EXPLODED, Donut got some scars on the right side of his face, and the hair in that area never entirely grew back. After finally accepting that he is PINK, Donut has also embraced other aspects of himself, both loving who he already is and enjoying what he wants to be. He doesn't hid his scars, but he styles his hair with a side under-cut and dyes the longer lengths a lighter blonde. He also wears a hearing-aid for his right ear, and his eyebrow on that side is a bit thin too. Donut's mouth naturally makes the "cute kitty shape", and he usually has some shiny chapstick/lip-balm on as well. He likes to get some sun on his skin, but is careful not to tan too much, and always uses lots of lotion

Doc is very "in the middle", not too tall or too short, he's not skinny but not chubby either... however, he's got sort of a sturdy build, very athletic without being too buff. A rounded jawline that ends in a small point with his chin. He has a very high bridge to his nose, making a refined line from his forehead down in profile, with sharper edges at the sides of the nostrils. His skin is a deep brown, and his hair is very dark, kept short, with the curls swept up out of his face. Doc isn't "vain" exactly, but he likes to feel comfortable with himself, and to a certain degree, this involves being satisfied with his appearance. O'Malley also enjoys feeling sort of "cozy" with the hair and what-not, so it is a shared reassurance. Doc wears glasses, and O'Malley absolutely knows how to do the "intense anime glasses thing" when he wants to look DRAMATIC. Something I wanted to show with both of them; Doc has very welcoming and kind vibes, but he is perfectly capable of being a sarcastic little smart-mouth, with a fierce sense of resolve. O'Malley likes to be very over-the-top and appear threatening, but there's potential for him to protective, and even joyful. Again, he looks very in the middle, applying to Doc and O'Malley's attitudes

Kai resembles her brother in many ways, but I wanted to make sure she's still unique to herself. Things they have in common; warm copper skin, thick and wavy hair, and they're both chubby. There is a subtle heart-shape to her face (above around her forehead and hair, and also lower with her jaw). Kai has had fun with lots of different hairstyles through the years, but she's decided to just let it grow out. She's dyed it some crazy colors in the past, without really knowing what she was using, but now Donut helps her coordinate, so she has a gradient going on (darker golden-brown at the roots, lighter shades of brown in the middle, and finally yellow at the ends). To keep it from getting tangles, she usually has her hair tied back, or wrapped up while she sleeps. Kai is somebody who is very aware of what she's physically capable of, in terms of both strength and flexibility. Sometimes she shows off with some interesting party tricks, but also just has a graceful way of moving when she wants to dance (or kick somebody's butt). Everything about Kai is LOUD and PROUD, but that doesn't mean she can't calm down and share quiet moments with the people she cares about. She also has two double sets of earrings; two studs up on her right ear, and two small hoops lower on her left ear

The first rule when drawing Tucker; he is the prettiest. He has fairly long and noticeable eyelashes. His nose has a defined smooth and broad curve to it, giving him a profile that is a bit regal, even heroic. He's one of those people who always looks younger than he actually is (not exactly a "baby face", but naturally youthful, until one day he's just gonna suddenly become a silver fox). He has dark brown skin, and thick black hair (4c), kept a little long at the top, but styled as a fade. He has pierced ears, usually just two studs (but can be more elaborate if he wants to dress up). Tucker is an interesting character; visually, he can very easily be a pretty boy, or a prince charming... but then he starts talking, and you realize how obnoxious and annoying he is. Underneath the flirty attitude and sarcastic jokes, he has genuine concern for others, and a fear that he won't be strong enough to protect people. Underneath THAT, he's a determined and clever person that is capable of doing amazing things. All that is wrapped-up within Tucker. I wanted to see a hint of the charm and smug attitude in his face, but the noble look is in there too. Physically, he's a short-king (manlet), but after training with Wash, Tucker has impressive muscles that combine with some quick reflexes

I imagine Caboose as one of the BIGGER characters. He also has the strongest "huggable vibes" (he's literally friend-shaped, no matter how much Church used to argue this fact). Caboose has a naturally sweet smile, which makes it all the more serious when he's upset (a sad Caboose will break your heart... a mad Caboose might break your arms). As Sarge once said- "He's like an ox!". His skin is a shade of sandy brown. His hair is a deeper brown, very soft and a little bit fluffy (I'm especially happy with how his bangs turned out~). I really wanted to make it clear that while Caboose might be all kinds of adorable, he is indeed a grown man, able to take care of himself, and others as well (he understands things some of them never notice). The curve of his jaw is low and subtle, but also shows how "solid" he is built. Caboose is a hopeful person, and has the will power to MAKE things turn out OK one way or another. No matter how unusual his ideas might be, Caboose is dependable, and intuitively has the strength to be kind on purpose

Wash has kept the beard despite the teasing, which has finally transformed him from looking like a very tired lost teenager into a dad who works at a library (the beardo-fication of Wash~). His hair is mostly a light blonde, more golden brown at the roots and through his facial hair (during Project Freelancer, he had a shock of gray after the Epsilon incident, but it has faded). His skin is a light tan color, covered with MANY freckles, and a few scars on his face (the most recent neck injury isn't visible. the scar above his eye is actually from a skateboarding accident as a kid, but the one across his nose was sometime after Project Freelancer started to fall apart). Although he fusses over other people a lot, Wash is bad at taking his own advice, and tends to not eat or sleep enough. It also didn't help that he had a bad habit of ignoring his own emotional breaking points until he was in the middle of losing control... he's finally learned to recognize certain things, and accept every part of himself (a little punk kid, a dork, Mr Serious, a guy who had a Villain Moment, and somebody who really found where he belongs). Under the beard, he has an angular chin, his nose has a curved swoop shape to it, and he has a defined lower lip

Carolina is one of the few characters we see without armor in the series, so I knew what I was working with, but I also wanted to show how she has changed. Carolina is a naturally intense person with somewhat slender features, and she's worked hard to be VERY strong. Now that she's spent time with this group of goobers, and had some chill lessons from Grif, Carolina is rediscovering how to enjoy herself and be less harsh (remember, she is the BEST. this means she's gonna be the Best Red, the Best Blue, the Best at Being Annoying~). She cut her hair during Iris, a little bit choppy at the time, but later decided to keep it short and give it a cleaner trim. She's dyed it a darker, less vibrant shade of red (I imagine her natural red is a bit more carrot). She still uses heavy eye shadow though! (at this point, it is out of spite toward anybody who everybody who ever said it looked silly; not so silly when she's kicking your but, is it?). She's a bit pale, but with a warm tone to her skin. Most of Carolina's scars came from incidents when she didn't have armor, or was so determined to finish a mission, she didn't care if she got hurt. It isn't visible here, but she doesn't bother with shaving her legs (not to get all deep about it, but Carolina sort of has her own balance with embracing certain aspects of femininity, and also ignoring expectations of "beauty". she knows what she's about, and does what she wants)

These designs for Tex and Church exist within my story-line where they get to return in synthetic human bodies (originally intended for the Director to use for himself and Allison, once he could properly "resurrect" her... which didn't work). DNA samples were used as the basic building blocks, the genetic information was allowed to "randomize" itself. As a result, Tex isn't an identical clone of Allison (just like parents can have more than one child; related, but physically different). Ironically, Tex takes after Allison's maternal grandmother, and so does Carolina. Tex has light skin and blonde hair, which she keeps tied back in a ponytail, with two lengths that frame the sides of her face. Carolina and Tex have the same nose shape, a long bridge that curves up at the end. She considered cutting her hair different, or dying it another color... but she didn't want to constantly worry about "changing" herself to avoid any similarities with Allison. Instead, Tex wants to find out what it means to be HERSELF; which is BIG and BUFF. She's pretty tall with a thick body-type already, so she just had to work on the muscles (also, even with long hair, she still has a "warrior dude" vibe, and she's very proud of it). Tex naturally has a lot of confidence and a rebellious attitude, but she really isn't "mean"... at least, not all the time

Church definitely has some traits that came from the Director... but Church was always a contrary little so-and-so, and even though he had no control over how his body formed, it seemed he was destined to be the "opposite" of what somebody else intended. Church is much shorter than the Director, with a thicker more "chunky" body-type (he puts on some healthy weight later, getting a bit more chubby. he also works on being strong enough to pick Tex up. that was his whole motivation). He has a broader nose, and more squared jaw. He has light skin, but a bit more of a sandy color. The most obvious resemblance is his black hair, which sticks up like a soft hedgehog. He asked Carolina and Tex if he should avoid having facial hair (since they have to look at him, and he doesn't want them to be reminded of any unpleasant memories). They assure him that it's fine, and the hair on his chin kind of suits him (it fact, even through the similarities, they can look at him and just see CHURCH, as he is). Church can be a smug, loud-mouth jerk... but though all his rants full of curse words and insults, he cares very deeply about people. Even though he had some ego-trips, he mostly just thought of himself as "some guy". Now he knows how important he is, not because he's a special and highly advanced AI, but because a lot of people missed him. Now he can actually be with them all again, and just like Epsilon, he has the chance to find out what he's truly capable of (they can still project holographic avatars of themselves, but all of the AI Fragments are back too, and happily spend time in Church's head~). Although they make different expression, Church and Carolina have the same "neutral" shape to their mouths

Poppy was originally sent to a different group of Red and Blue Flag Zealots, meant to identify needed supplies and order more ammunition. She was designated "neutral", and had white armor with tan accents. When the teams ran out of bullets, they kept fighting in non-lethal ways, which Poppy thought was preferable to a clearly pointless war, so she just never put in the order for more. Both teams considered her a friend, playfully fighting over who's side she was on, but never getting mad at her for getting along with them all. After a dangerous incident left her knocked-out and recovering, Temple's group arrived to recruit more Sim Troopers. Poppy's group refused to join. When she woke up, they were all gone. She misses them dearly. Because she's still considered part of the Flag Zealots, the UNSC decided to throw her back into a new training program (which was actually pretty shady and insidious), and that's where she meets Sarge. Poppy has a calm yet sarcastic personality, with a raging inferno of a temper once somebody ticks her off. Perfect for Red Team! Poppy is medium-short, about the same as Doc. She has broad shoulders and strong arms, very sure-footed and versatile when it comes to fighting. A very go-with-the-flow attitude, somebody who can be comforting and encouraging, but isn't shy about showing her emotions. She has a somewhat rounded fact with a short, sturdy chin. Her skin is a light shade of brown, and her long hair is a dark earthy brown. Not pictures is her own prosthetic arm (she's meant to be a "mirror" for Simmons, clever like him, but not a know-it-all. she was the one in the accident, and woke up with cyborg parts. Sarge decides to just adopt her, and this SHOULD immediately make him hater her, but Simmons finds himself feeling pretty fond and protective of Poppy. accidental sibling! also, they're both trans in opposite directions~)

We've seen Locus without armor in a flash-back before Chorus, so I tried to translate that into my style I use here. I imagine that he actually wasn't doing to great Chorus, not eating or sleeping enough, what with the whole crisis involved; thinking of himself as a murder-machine unable to see the worth of kindness or mercy, and THEN recovering enough humanity to be horrified by his actions thus considering himself a monster without a purpose... y'know, that whole song and dance. Anyway, the Reds and Blues force him to be a person again, so he gained some weight back. While he has a very strong jaw, it's kind of low where the angle is (so he doesn't have a "long" chin, but a wide one). He also has pretty defined cheek bones, and other features as well (he wasn't smiling much for a LONG time, but he does indeed have lines on his face that deepen when it happens). He's BIG, burly, and buff... but hopefully looks less harsh than before

I like to imagine that Flowers keeps faking his own death, and has a set of plans outside of what Project Freelancer was trying to do... nothing ever worked out properly. Flowers mainly doesn’t like the idea of people being “thrown away” or treated like they’re worthless, and at his worst, that meant using people for some goal they didn’t choose for themselves. He wouldn’t like to admit it, but… “daddy doesn’t always know best”, and he’s trying to include people on the decisions of these goals now (while the Director and Councilor might have just thrown together Red and Blue teams to mimic the other group who had a nearly endless stalemate going, Flowers picked out the Reds and Blues for Blood Gulch because he LIKED them, and he genuinely thought Alpha would too… in a very twisted way, Flowers founded this family). Nobody entirely trusts him at first, what with all the lying. Plus he keeps talking like a overly cheerful serial killer. He’s an older and distinguished gentleman. Some gray streaks in his hair, which he keeps wrapped up in several small braids that make a flower-shaped bun. Some scars on his body from many missions and fights (including the ax to the shoulder). He has a warm, brown skin, and back tattoo that is just barely visible; orange blossoms. He has a tall and lanky body-type, but even past middle-age he still has thick muscles

[tomiyeee]

how long does it take you to draw and colour? since you post everyday which is great for me :D any tips for colouring cause Im still tryna figure all that out

hmm welllll, i don't exactly time how long it takes to draw but my partner said that sometimes i'll be working on a piece when they go to sleep and i'll still be working on it when they wake up 7 hours later so...my guess is anywhere from 3-8 hours each depending on complexity? at least for the art that i normally post, most of which is relatively simple.

not entirely sure what kind of tips you were looking for, but i'll just throw out some of my thought processes and stuff i try to keep in mind whenever i color. i'm gonna try and keep these relatively to the point so i won't go into much detail on art terms n whatnot, BUT i am also pretty terrible at explaining things so if you need clarification on anything, feel free to ask!

(sorry it's so longggg, i got carried away. i am...very wordy when it comes to art lol)

i like to block in the colors during the sketching stage before i do the lineart, especially for pieces where i know i want to do something funky with the color palette. you can see this in a lot of my process shots. doing colors in the planning stage just gives me a lot more freedom to focus purely on the colors and shading and how they work with the composition, without having to worry about the minute details like making sure the colors are inside the lines.

in order to save time while coloring, i'll usually just select the negative space (after making sure all the lineart is closed) > expand selection by 1 pixel (to make sure the edges are hidden within the liineart) > invert selection > fill bucket, then use clipping layers above that to color individual areas.

layer modes are your friend! i use multiply, overlay, and glow dodge (this one may be specific to mangastudio?) in almost every one of my drawings, but it's definitely worth playing around with all of the modes just to familiarize yourself with them if you haven't already.

color is honestly SO subjective. i'm never a fan of color picking (from source material or my own refs or whatever) bc while it may have its uses when it comes to consistency, imo it's much more fun to make them up as i go. you get a lot more variety from piece to piece while also familiarizing yourself with the character's palette that way. usually i'll start by deciding on the overall mood/palette (cool/warm, de-saturated, neon, pastel, etc), filling in the background color, then picking the characters' colors based on that. like with this venti pic, i started with a purple background and based my colors around that purple so they all fit the specific look i was going for. i could maybe get a similar effect by starting with the normal colors and using filters, shading, layer modes, etc to get the funky colors, but it will be much harder/more work and doesn't get as drastic of an effect imo.

on that note, don't be afraid to use shades/colors that may seem odd! you'd be surprised how many times i've used gray in place of blue, orange, purple..basically any color. in the above example, you can see just how different the colors ended up being from the original. after i decide on my palette + bg color, i'll just throw down the color i think will work and then (bc that first guess is usually wrong and meant only as a ballpark estimate) see if it needs to be warmer or cooler/darker or lighter/more or less saturated/etc and adjust accordingly. it's like mixing paint or tuning an instrument! it takes a little bit of practice, but after a while you start to get the hang of what colors will look like in which color palettes. white is usually the easiest to start with bc it will always just be tinted whatever color your palette is (like how the "white" in the above example is just a light purple).

this and the next point are more about shading but i include it as part of the coloring process: the easiest way i've learned to do shading is to darken the entire image/character/part you want to shade (usually with a solid color multiply layer) then add in the lighting either by erasing parts of the multiply layer or by using a separate layer set to overlay or glow dodge (or a similar lightening layer mode). it works a lot better than drawing the shadows imo because it kind of mimics how light works in real life; things are dark by default until you let light in and it hits what it can while leaving the rest still dark.

if you want to blend shadows, i usually still use the above method, but just blur certain areas of it and when i'm deciding which parts to blur (bc i don't just do so indiscriminately) i'll mentally sort all of the shadows into 2 categories:

shadows created by light being blocked by an object: like putting your hand in front of a flashlight. these shadows will retain their sharp edge, but can transition into the 2nd category if they are far enough from the obstruction, like how your hand's shadow will become blurrier the further you move it from the flashlight. the more distance between a light source and the surface it's projecting onto, the more chances for the light to scatter = softer edges

shadows created by light "rolling" off the surface: like the shadows on a ball or rounded surface. these will get blurred and i usually like to put a little bit of color along the blurred edge (a different and usually brighter/more saturated color than the rest of the shadows) just to add some life to the shadows.

here's an annotated version of this mikey pic with just the shadows so it's a lot easier to see :) sorry im bad at annotating..

aaaand this post has probably gotten way longer than you were hoping for so i'll cut it off here 😭 hope this has been at least somewhat useful, and good luck with your art!

[seroothincs]

Well now I gotta see your Louie headcanons

Awh, yes the sweet baby boy. He's honestly such a favorite of mine, he's just soo.. Mmm Baby. An Absolute dork who tries to put on his best tough face but ends up being more cuter. I don't have that many headcanons of him since we already know a lot about him as a character, he has a lot of voice lines and is therefore the most involved mafia member in the show. Rather than Legs or even Johnny, but Johnny never says anything so it's obvious why we don't know a lot bout him. Headcanons: Now he's the bit more timid and friendly mobster in comparison from examples like Legs or Johnny, of course he isn't afraid to kill someone that gets into his way but he certainly is the more chatty type of guy you'd meet in college. Of course he's all around the place and eager to follow out Tony's every order, he isn't shown to be bothered when needing to kill someone. Though he does show concern for other people's well being like when he called out Homer's reckless use of a gun in "The Cartridge family", saying that homer could have seriously injured someone. Another example is in the famous scene from "Insane Clown poppy" where Johnny got shot. Paints him as a more sensitive mobster, which is what makes him all the more cuter.

He's usually shown to be the shortest member of the gang, shorter than both Legs and Tony. Johnny as well but I'm not so sure about Frankie in comparison with him. Maybe they're the same height, maybe Frankie is taller maybe Louie is. Anyways, there could be a reason for that, maybe a history of shortness in his family -- or maybe not. OR MAYBE it has to do with his past. Look he's a pretty thin and short dude, has a bit of belly chub but that's normal for a dude like him in an old age. He was extremely thin since his childhood, likely because he was raised by a single mother and back then they struggled to maintain a proper income to care for themselves. Causing for him to grow up a bit malnourished, which both caused his baby face, his short height and why he looked so thin. So you could imagine the confusion and worry when Legs and Tony grew more and more while Louie only grew half of their previous heights as teens.

Possibly and this is just one of my many filled in plot points regarding his backstory. When he was a young adult, so say early 20s, He got his first and only real job, after Anna Maria's death and after he quit college, in an Equestrian facility.

He had been spiraling into a deep depression after the terrible news of Anna's passing, so much so that he didn't see a point in continuing his studies to become a chef and gave up on his dream. Instead he wanted to try a new thing and that was caring for animals, he thought if he was under the presence of them he could feel more at ease and escape from the busy life he had once lived.

The job, working as a cleaner, paid enough of a salary to live off it, though he still was miserable. Tony eventually found him and it took some convincing to do once he got him to join the mafia again.

I should probably mention at this point that Anna Maria (Fat tony's deceased wife if anyone isn't familiar with her) and Louie were really tight best friends in the younger years. They have been ever since their teenage years and even went to college together, I don't wanna get into this too much as I will write a separate post to how the young mafia only consisting of three rose up out of Springfield's slumps into the most feared organization that ever appeared in the country.

This guy will search for anything to function as a lighter for his cigarette. Doesn't matter if it's a grill, gas stove or even a iron. He sort of got an addiction back in his early 20s and now he's trying his best to cut back.

He had much, much, much, much more curlier and luscious hair when he was young. He kind of misses it but that's just what happens with old age, he's also kind of glad that he doesn't have to deal with the thickness of it anymore. So many combs broke when he just wanted to brush through it, so many.

It's no surprise horses are his favorite animals, it's weird for a boy to like them but he got the love for them from his father. His dad was a jockey back in Italy and before he died he had promised Louie he would take him with him one day to the ranch where he used to work at and train at. This promise obviously fell through and Louie only remembered that place after he quit college.

Frankie and Louie are sharing one single braincell and it's almost dead.

Louie and Tommy "The face-shooter" are really close and I think that's because Tommy is just like Louie, both were and are young when they joined. (but I think it's also because Louie is no longer the youngest in the whole mafia and relieved that a 19 year old joined)

Louie and Michael are good friends for two reasons. One: They both are excellent cooks and occasionally when they meet up they cook together. Two: Both are children.

Louie, as mentioned in earlier episodes, is a good dancer. He was shown to be good at tap-dancing in "Mayored to the Mob" so I feel like he had dance class as an after school activity. Yeah sure the others laughed at him because of it but he really liked going to that place, wasn't a big fan of the ballet they did but he loved tap-dancing, he still does it to this day.

Besides his love for dancing, he also has a love for instruments. He has been seen attending the Rolling stones Rock N' Roll Fantasy camp and later in the episode he even dragged Tony and Legs along with him to the concert. A total Stones fanboy. But this makes me think that he started playing guitar when he was a young teen, his idols being Keith Richards and Brian May.

He is, so god damn accident-prone it's not even funny. He has been already through so many tragedies in his life and he continues to be put under them. He always manages to get shot in some way shape or form during gang wars, trips when there's nothing even there for him to trip over, fell out of a three story building that one time and he has so many scars on his bodies to show where he was stabbed. I don't even know how he continues to live after so many things happened to him, guess he and Frankie are really immortal.

What was that? You said your favorite band are the Rolling stones? Bad move, buddy. Now you're caught by an ecstatic Louie. He is such a huge fanboy for the stones and once you mention even the slightest of references at the band he turns into a blabber-mouth. It's cute at times, though his music choice sometimes gets in the way of Legs's when they are driving in the car and want to put on some music. (His favorite album of course is Sticky fingers)

Louie plus Frankie and all of the kids from their mobster colleagues (Including Michael) are loyal fans for the Muppet Show and watch it all the time when they're together. Oh and they of course watch Itchy & Scratchy together.

He loves tiramisu over everything, it's the one dessert he always orders at La Coffee nostra. He also a sweet tooth, both Legs and Tony tell him to cut back since Louie has been through so many dentist's already, so many holes.

He doesn't like to admit it at times but he's forced to when Legs gets on his back. He can be disorganized and messy, his apartment looks like a war zone and I don't think anyone would want to step in his bedroom if they already saw the state of his living room.

And that was it for the headcanons, I at least Think these are all of them. I can never make enough because of the cute boy.

[terra-wisp]

My first instinct after I write something is to look at it and just... hate it. No matter what, I always seem to have some issue with one thing or another in regards to whatever I've cobbled together. Many of my friends have seen me throw my hands up in the air while I'm in the middle of writing and call my own work "TRASH!" Those same friends will often roll their eyes and call me an idiot and "no, it's fine - damn it, put down the lighter!" We're our own worst critics, and somehow we've normalized belittling our own work on a regular basis. But I remember once chatting with a friend who was an artist. I loved her art style, and watching her draw was like watching magic happen right in front of my eyes. How did she do that? Lines and colors were drawn and added with such sure deliberation that I couldn't help but fangirl to her about how amazing her art was. She waved off the praise and told me that "oh, this isn't anything special. I'm not that great." My mind was blown. Not that great? Were we seeing the same things? I told her this and mentioned that I wished I could draw as well as she could. I could do some rudimentary sketching, enough to get by but nothing like what she was capable of. "But you're such a good writer! I don't know how you do it. I wish I could write." And of course I refuted this. It's just words - we speak them all the time. So long as you can put pen to paper or type on a word document, then you can write! We went in circles about this, until we finally agreed to try the other person's craft and show off the results to the other. And then we both realized, babies as we were with these skillsets we had no idea how to use, that it was hard! I don't know about my friend, but I was embarrassed by the squiggles and mistakes that marred my page. I showed her, and after much coaxing she showed me what she wrote as well. In the end, neither of us were very happy with our own attempts. But we looked at the other person's piece and saw the beginnings of a skill. It wasn't perfect, but all it needed was practice to polish it up. But neither of us could see that because we kept comparing our paltry first tries with the works of someone who had dedicated years to their respective crafts. Calling your work - whether it be original or fanfic; a written story or piece of art - 'trash'? It's a terrible habit, usually born more out of frustration than anything else. But remember that other people might like, or maybe even love what you do. Not only would you be belittling something that makes another person happy, but you might be indirectly convincing someone that their own work might be even worse than 'trash' because it's not as polished. Maybe they just started? Maybe they're trying something new for the first time. I'm trying to be more positive - even when I'm frustrated. If something doesn't come out right, then it's not bad - definitely not garbage! I'll just call it practice and keep going. I may never write as well as the likes of Neil Gaiman, but it sure beats leaving the page blank.

You know what’s ironic? I thought you of all people would know not to judge a book by its cover.

[the-firebird69]

Royal Enfield - Wikipedia

This is a very reputable motorcycle company and a son picked it out and he knows about it heard about it it just read a little bit about it but we know more about it it is from a family that is not really associated with bja and they would be slightly offended if they were around and they were not the ones getting them they were and they shy away from that stuff no the British mini they took a whole bunch of them down they say that's how they got to it and that's what the max want and they knew about this but they're timid about doing it. We of course with piggyback and they would of course didn't know about it and they would be trying to do stuff and we want them to and we like this bike there's a couple things you can do and it still would look authentic he really likes the tank he likes to take because it holds a lot of fuel and it's about 2 gallons almost and the leg fits in there and they take on the interceptor is way too small and the motor is way too big and it goes too slow for a huge motor this doesn't have a really huge motor but you take the windshield off and you put some reasonable handlebars you don't have to scooch over with but they look cool and you've got a much better looking bike the fenders are terrible the seat looks hilarious and you can change those to look more like Royal Enfield standard and that they look nice with the Chrome you can put Chrome on there and it's something to do and it would work we hear her thinking so we're going to hear about it

Thor Freya

It's almost New Year's but here we go I want to have this bike and she wants a different one so he's going to look it's like this this one is a big one though and I'll leave my grandfather and father and great-grandfather great grandfather and yeah they say flash dances because of stuff and we're going to get big and they're going to start making them. This is a great economical bike we'll put a 25 or 35 and it will go extremely fast and a 45 and it will go very fast and the motor is kind of bigger and the transmission and it will Chrome it and it will look like the interceptor but it's much lighter we have estimates on the speed and so do they we think maybe 180 220 and 250 believe it or not it's the same it's a coincidence but boy this will be a nice bike and these parts are not hard to to make or find we thought about the solid wheel or mags we know what he's saying those spokes take forever but we have to hire people. Now I hear what he's saying you're making a separate factory and I mean you just have like a station and you have a rack this kind of weird way to do it he says you don't want to do it online and it's probably better work for people and you're giving an ergonomic chair and they do it sitting down if you can I think you can and you put it behind you in like a clothing rack it has like two sides to it and you feel like 20 on there and someone comes fine Wheels it away and puts a new one in when you're done like Garth and people like that and we can hire some of them you'll see what we're doing and buy the bikes and I'll help protect us and he likes that because it's not massively problematic and really you just doing the rim and it's light and they do the rims and they make it the same tightness and they test them any of you all this noise being you do it but it's really a great idea then it's a little separators cuz you can't hear a damn thing but really for workers is good because you can come in and do it and you don't have to break your back and you don't have to be on this weird line and he used to do it like that I see why but I have an Iraq and you just wheel it away the Iraq I mean you put like 20 or so or 30 on there and then a new one shows up and you can do a piecemeal but people don't do good work so it's better just not to people will race I'm going to go ahead and do that it's a good idea it's a much better work atmosphere and you can have music and snacks it's really it's really kind of work how people can do and then you can move up in the company but you'll learn how to repair the things and make them so it's a talent and a technique we're going to go ahead and do this is a great idea and I love it and we're going to thank you somehow we've been thinking you and you've been saying wow I must be doing something and it was not the empire falling at all

Megan Merkel

Hello my bike I need a bike he says what about Cannondale okay that's great he's going to try and look it up

Kate Middleton

Olympus

And happy New Year everybody from Kate and Megan Thor Freya Olympus and me and Hera says hello to everybody and happy New Year and let's get this year straight we're starting out at a great foot she says and we're moving forwards and she got information today she needed and it's working for her she says and it's wonderful

[lunarscaled]

-> There was nothing wrong with it if you asked them---using open space like armor. It was lighter and not nearly as noisy, and it was to be found in abundance anywhere that was intimidating enough to keep most common-sense people out, save for perhaps some overly enthusiastic teenagers that wanted to prove themselves in a test of courage. Lyric kept themselves in layers of it much the same way they wrapped all their limbs around themselves now, their necrotic insides untouchable by anyone, even Christoph ( though they're sure he wouldn't want to be sticking his hands in that. he had a gut for things more grotesque than them for certain, but they think even he would draw the line at rooting around in your friend's organs, unless they did something that really pissed him off. ) Their offhanded comment was the wrong thing to say. They can feel the way a muscle in his hand on the back of their neck twitches tense in irritation ( Lyric would accept a profound amount of terrible treatment towards themselves that Christoph would not. they approached such indiscretion with very different tactics; Lyric was sure if they kept their head down and played dead long enough, whatever was chewing them up would get bored. Christoph... they think Christoph would fight probably anything if it made him mad enough. that included other people, aaaand other people who were cruel to Lyric. Even if they were running for their lives. Even if they were only scared, too. ) before he has even disengaged himself, deep breath in and look-away.

Their head is cradled on their forearms between their knees. They do not miss the attempt at a comforting look from him, even if it doesn't last long. Of everyone here, he was the only one Lyric felt they could trust.

"Don't hit yourself. You'll scratch your eye or something."

-> A moment to set aside their despondency and grief, something in their chest twists gently when he approaches their sorrow with a delicacy: he keeps his voice in check because they flinch when he yells ( and when someone screams. it's the worst part, in their opinion, having to listen to someone shriek the whole time. underneath their humanity and mercy, something hisses at them to just shut the fuck up and die already ); he keeps his touches steady around their shoulders and does not take space or contact where it is not openly given; he tries to console them, above all else, because Lyric is the one having the harder adjustment here. They supposed it was better than being on the other end of the hook, but... they couldn't take to it. They were good at it and had no pride in that fact ( people were predictable, so of course they were. you only needed to know the chances of someone running away or the first place to hide to catch them in a corner. ) If Christoph didn't help them, they're sure the entity would have made them into a husk by now. An exhale, soothed and amused by his words, leads into the smallest impression of a smile when he mirrors their curled-up shape.

"... Do you never worry we're doing the wrong thing? I know there isn't a lot of choice, but... I think I can't help giving people the benefit of the doubt. I would be scared, if I was them."

-> They flinch a little, their posture ticking up a notch straighter at the clap on the back. Lyric gives a heavy exhale they hadn't realized they'd been holding. Peptalks did help, it seemed.

"No way, you sound totally ragged--- Probably cause you always try to talk to them when they're running around. After awhile you just start yelling and it freaks them out. Uh, but then they're so focused on avoiding you... it makes them easier for me to approach them because they aren't listening."

@mortul moved from X.

[mywritingonlyfans]

Angst fic with Damiano David

prompt: a angsty about reader being sad (dami bff) 'cause damiano doesn't feel the same way romantically. ps. there's a lot of victoria de angelis being a angel in this fic, and it's basically about reader going through it.

warnings: none? it's just a bit sad and longer than usual.

 All the soft touches still tingled all over your body. His scent was until now stuck to you, you never thought you’d feel happy to have woody essence along with cigarette smoke on you. 

 Folding the sleeve of his sweater, you put your tea in one of the cups you always use when you were there. His cotton piece was comfortable, making you didn't regret wearing it in the morning; it was cold and wearing your tank top from the night before didn't feel right. The shorts from yesterday, that were making your legs freeze were enough trouble for you to handle. The remnants of your clothes and belongings were collected from the floor of his room and placed carefully on his headboard, you made sure you were being quiet. Damiano has always been a heavy sleeper, but your counscious prevented you from risking disturbing him when he looks so peaceful. You had already spent much time at his place so you memorized where every thing in his kitchen - and others rooms - was; baking eggs and making tea wasn’t a mystery for you. You had even separated a Tylenol tablet for Damiano, so he could have it with his tea when he woke up with a wicked hangover. He wasn't the type to get drunk and forget what he did, nor were you. Since when you were teenagers, you have gone out and been drunk together a lot of times, and although your feelings were already present, nothing never happened. This time, however, alcohol helped injecting a dose of courage on him. Being honest with yourself, you didn't remember who started it; but the kiss in the midst of the loud music, his hand on the back of your neck, the exchanging glances while dancing and the moment he took you home, they were pretty vividly in your mind. You still felt relaxed, as if his sweaty body was still over yours. Minutes with your eyes closed was enough to feel his eyes roaming your body all over again.

“Hi,” he said in a slurred voice, cutting off your line of thoughts. You jumped, briefly scared but soon turned your attention to reality; a tired Damiano scratching his eyes in front of you.

He was dressed, wearing sweatpants and sweatshirt, duly comfortable according to the weather. 

 “Headache?” You knew he was. He was always a good drinker, he put up with it a lot, but he was never one to get rid of the effects of alcohol on the next day. You, on the other hand, got on better with this issue; fortunately from the night before, only the good moments remained with you.

“Yeah, a bit,” he giggled. “What a night, I’d say.” He added, in a lower tone. What was acceptable, you also felt a bit weird to be in front of him.

“I got you some pills,” you pointed it out to him on the counter, trying to maintain a normal behavior; with no shacking voice or sweaty hands. Quite impossible. “I made tea too.”

“Dear God, you’re a life saver!” He smiled at you, eyes crinkled and all of his perfect teeth on display. Contagious.

You grinned, feeling your body getting lighter. “No worries. I’m glad to help.”

“Y’know, when I woke up and saw that you weren't there I thought you were gone. You know? Friendship destroyed and that whole thing. I’m happy to see you; relieved.” He took a sip of his tea, and maybe a bit of your heart with it. You were an explosion of feeling when it comes to him, you always have been. “That sweater looks good on you, you can keep it if you want. You know that’s my fave one.” And, yeah, you knew.

The tension on you was no longer intense, comforting you to let out the breath you were holding. “It’s good to hear that,” Your genuine smile managed to say many things, you wished Damiano had noticed you earlier on other occasions. “Do you remember that one time, when we were younger, that you were a bit crazy about a girl; Alice was his name.” You stopped; in need of air - nervous - and watched Dami's attentive face. “She was the first person to whom you dedicated a song, you played it to her at school break. The cutest thing I had ever seen. I think it was there that I realized, a little jealous—“

“Y/N,” his voice had been almost inaudible, causing no effect. Had he really tried?

“How in love I was with you.”

His face was paler than usual, he was paralyzed; speechless. You had never seen Damiano like this, the men was always all over the place in a sweet talkative mess.

It took a few minutes for you to be able to read his expressions and realize how fucked up you were. The dose of happiness in your blood had been able to manipulate you to believe in what you most wanted to happen.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” your blood had gone up to your ears, all you could pay attention to was the pressure in your head. How had you thought that after one specific night he would suddenly decide that he was in love with you? After all of this time that you were just a good friend for him? “I’m truly sorry but I’m don’t—“

“Feel the same way?” You finished. He nodded, apprehensively. You have never felt so stupid. It was a mixture of shame, fear and insecurity. You were unable to look directly at him, you knew that there was no change in following a friendship after what you just said, much less after the night before. You had never been so screwed.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing, I shouldn’t have said a thing.” You whispered, realizing that the lump in your throat had turned into tears that you didn't even know were running down your face.

“Come here,” he opened his arms, walking towards your emotionless frame. You allowed yourself to melt in his grip. 

 Your tears fell freely; you could even try to hold it back but there was no strength left for you to think about it. Your crying was silent, as was the kitchen room. Your head was full of questions and cursing at yourself. Suddenly you wished Damiano had yelled at you, asked you to get out of there or said he wouldn't never speak to you again. It seemed easier to deal with it in this alternative way than to have him comforting you for loving him. “Shh, it’ll alright. I could never be mad at you.”

He talked about your friendship, but you knew that nothing would end up well. Maybe for him. But for you? It’d not be that easy. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have known better, you were so loving with me last night that I thought— Fuck, we slept together. Which I know isn’t your fault because I don’t even remember who—“

“Stop, Y/N. Look at me,” He was being careful. You were making a person like Damiano calculate his words, that made you feel like pure shit. You stopped talking, looking at him was still difficult. He understood that you wouldn’t be doing so. “That’s fine. I don’t feel bad about you liking me in that way, you’re wonderful. I don't regret anything, last night was great, but I just... don't feel the same. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I can't even imagine how hard it’s being for you right now.” His words sounded sweet and sincere. He had tears in his eyes as well. His ability to be so empathetic to everyone was something you loved the most about him. He was probably killing himself on the inside for breaking you.

You nodded, leaning on the counter. You wanted to ask him if he remembered that he was your first kiss at the age of seven or all the times he sent you vinyl records with some message - that he had written himself - inside the cover. How did he not feel the same, shouldn't you be everything he wanted?

“Dami?” You sighed. Your eyes were red, your face probably swollen. You then looked straight at him; that surprisingly wasn’t much better than you. “Have you ever looked at me and seen me in another way? Something more than just your best friend?”

He didn’t say a thing, just look at you standing there. You get it.

“I think I should go,” You broke the silence that had been formed. You thought about taking his sweater off, but since you weren't wearing anything underneath, you thought it was better not; you’d have to go to his room to change, and then pick up your things only to delay your leaving.

“I can drive you home,” he said in a hush, looking for his car keys.

“It’s okay, a walk will be fine.”

“It’s fucking freezing outside, I can't let you walk over there like that.”

You ignored what he said, walking around the house to the front exit. He tried to grab your arm just for you to step back.

“I know you're just trying to help, but I need to be alone right now, without you near me.” You tried to say it in the most normal way possible, you didn't want to be mean, you only wanted to be fair to yourself.

“Sure.” It was the last thing you heard him say before you left, feeling the cold wind on your body. You didn't know if he had entered his house again or if he was watching you hug yourself as walking slowly to somewhere. You wouldn't dare to look back.

--------------------------------------------------------

“C’mon girl, get up here,” Upon hearing the husky, strong voice, you were relieved. 

 Victoria wasn’t wearing her usual jewelry and looked like she had just been woken up by force. You weren’t as close to her as you were with the other boys, however, you had never been so happy to see her.

You got in her car. “Thank you,”

“God, you look terrible. You’re fine?” You looked at your reflection in the rearview mirror and well, fine was definitely something you didn't look like.

“Dami asked you to come and get me?” Your throat was scratching, it was difficult to speak.

“Yeah,” she looked at you quickly, but due to your discomfort she backed off. More tears would come. “He didn't say why though, he just said he needed someone to come to you before you froze to death.” She said it in a way that made you laugh, even with your eyes filled with tears. “Did the two of you have a disagreement? You don't have to answer me if you don't want to.”

“Something similar.” You said shakily; due to your crying and chilly. Inside the car was heated, but your body was so cold that it didn't seem to be enough. You tried to snuggle in the passenger seat, letting your head rest against the window like in a sad film. Maybe that’d help.

“Here,” she handed you a coat, without hesitation you took it. “I brought it to you in case you needed it.”

You nodded slowly. “Thank you, Victoria,”

“You can call me Vic, just like everyone else,” she laughed.

You gave her a half smile. “Okay then, thank you very much, Vic,”

The rest of the day would be crying while you curled up in your bed, you’d let yourself feel at your worst; promising that you would try and change that the next day.

———----------------------------------------------

You expected the first few days to be the hardest, but it seemed to get worse with each passing day. Damiano had tried to call you a few times and in all of them you responded dryly, using short words, pretending it’d be okay. You truly tried, but you needed time to process what happened. You told him that, and then time he gave you.

After completing a month of the incident, you noticed how 'dependent' you had become on him. He was always around since you were kids, any problem you had you would look for him to talk to, now you felt like you had nothing. Your friends were friends of his, too, more of his friends than yours. You missed having Thomas failing on teaching you how to play guitar on your couch and besides you thought about calling him - just to distract yourself - you remembered that he was more a friend of Damiano than yours. It’d be weird. None of them contacted you at that time, not even Thomas. You couldn't figure it out if Dami had told them what happened and they decided to give you space or if they just didn't care about you when you wasn’t around Damiano.

Basically, where Dami was you would be and vice versa. It had always been like that.

When you saw that just time wasn’t solving anything, you programmed yourself to live in a way that you were busy all the time. Your routine became work, home and most of the time taking the work to be done also in your home. You didn't feel energized to make new friends, and going out on dates could help momentarily but it wouldn't be fair to go out with someone in the ‘mood’ you were in; then these ideas were soon discarded. Sleeping was impossible, you spent hours rolling over in bed; both for the flashbacks that plagued your mind, but also for the fact that you missed him. The nights were worse when you visit your mother or when she called and said, "Dami never came to see me again." or something like. “Are you still talking to each other? We don't let someone like Damiano leave our lives.”

Deep down, you knew there was no way you could be in love with him forever and that no matter how much it hurt at that moment it would pass. You started to repeat it to yourself as much as you could, so when the boys got in touch with you again you didn't hesitate to answer. Nothing bad would happen, you just need to pretend to be fine. The first to send you a message was Thomas, with simple questions, he acted like nothing had happened, you liked it. Even though it was obvious that Thomas, as one of his boys, would know this in more detail than you did (which was a lie, but at least he knew how Damiano was feeling about it, which you wouldn't know). He updated you about Dami, who was great as always, and you said you were doing well when he asked. You answering him made Ethan talk to you too, although they were all polite and delicate, they seemed more to be sorry than to miss you. Pity wasn’t something you were expecting.

After five months, you still felt like crap. You had tried to stop counting the days that had passed since you last saw Damiano, but it was almost impossible. You could still remember that night vividly, but you were still trying your best to move on; leave it behind. Mysteriously, you wanted to see him, see how he was doing and find out if he had anything else to say but you were afraid to see him, go back to your place as his best friend just to realize that your feelings for him had not abated at all.

“...I haven't seen you in a while. I wonder if you're alright,” you heard when answering your phone. Your head hurt, your eyes stung. You had slept on spreadsheets that you brought home from your work.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Shit,” she murmured.

You looked at the phone screen. “Sorry Vic, I just woke up I'm still trying to copy.” You laughed to calm her down.

“I thought I didn't have my number,” her voice became softer, as if she was relieved that you had saved it. “I didn't want to wake you up, I'm sorry about that. I just wanted to know how you‘re doing, since I used to see you almost every day, y’know?”

You thought about saying that you saved her number the day Dami called to pick him up at a bar since his phone battery was dead and he was in no condition to drive, but Victoria clearly knew that. “Is Dami with you?”

“No,” her tone matched yours; Dami had told her, now she was being careful with her words. “I saved your number the day Dami needed to call you, in case I needed to call you again.”

“That’s alright, thanks for checking on me then.”

“But he would love to talk to you. He always asks the boys about you or comments on you so that someone can bring you up to the convo. He seems a bit lost when you not ‘round to be honest.”

Somehow hearing that made you happy. Still, the image of discomfort whenever you thought of talking to him scared you. The phone line was filled with silence, until Victoria's husky voice filled the line.

“Anyway, I didn't call you to talk about Damiano. We finally finished the album and decided to have a small celebration at my house,” you giggle at the formality. “We thought you should go, since you were present in more than half of the process. I‘d like you to come. We’d all like you to come.”

———

Your heart accelerated with each step you took as you entered Victoria's house. The rooms had a glow of being calm and the music that was playing helped to make the place cozy. The instrumental of the band reminded you of Fleetwood Mac, and for the little that you knew Vic you would say that the type of sound reminded you of her. 

 Her house wasn’t crowded, there were only a few people around; some you’ve seen before, some you haven’t. You thundered your fingers over some vinyl that were arranged in a corner, pretending to read them. You were looking for familiar faces, honestly even for Damiano, but for some unknown reason you didn't want to make that obvious. Your eyes captured Thomas talking to some girls, and soon you felt relieved to be dressed according to the occasion; or at least according to the girls who were close to Thomas. It didn't take long until he noticed you standing there, you waved and he came to you. He looked surprised, still he didn't wait for you to say anything else, just wrapped you in his arms so tight you had to ask him to let go in between muffled laughter.

“Vic working miracles! Come, I'll take you to the others.” He said in his cute form, holding your hand as guiding you through the house. “So, how's our best girl?”

Your lips parted in a smile. “I’m alright, pretty much the same to be honest,” there was no time for him to ask another question because you soon spotted Ethan and Victoria with their beers in hands. They seemed to be shocked to see you as well; and it was starting to irritate you for reasons you couldn't explain. Thomas put you behind him, hiding you from the two of them as if they hadn't seen you already. He was being such a sweetheart that he had even managed to soften the anxious butterflies in your stomach; but not enough to keep your mind free of worries and Damiano David. Thomas made a funny noise with his hands as Ethan ignored his attempt to be amusing, pulling you into a hug. Who would have thought you would have missed them so much.

“How long without seeing you, I force you not to do that again. Without you we are just another disorganized mess.” You laughed at his nonsense. Your smile was sincere, like it hadn't been for months, still you were forcing yourself a bit more to appear to be actually 'fine'. You’d like to know if they noticed, even though you were appreciating that they didn’t.

“No worries, I‘m not planning on leaving you guys alone.”

 Ethan and Thomas started to discuss about something, Ethan was already under the effect of alcohol, and from time to time they asked for your opinion on how Victoria had been strangely quiet. Atypical of her, but she didn't seem to be out of place or uncomfortable, just quiet.

“Did a cat eat the tongue of my newest attractive friend?”

“Not this time,” she showed you her tongue, and then smirked. Her eyes shone in differently way under your gaze and her make up was making her look more mature. “Are you feelin’ good? Thank you for coming.” Victoria was happy to see you, you could feel that. She might be curious, but pity wasn’t something possible to see in her; different from the other boys. “You must be tired of hearing that question, I'm sorry. It‘ll no longer be asked.”

Her voice was soft, comfortable to hear. “I appreciate that. I really have heard a lot of that, but despite everything, I feel good ‘bout bein’ here.”

“I feel even happier that you came then,” she put her hand gently on your waist. The other two didn't even remember you and Vic were there. “Let's get you something to drink, we bought that red drink Damiano always says you love.”

“No way, it’s bishop cocktail?” You looked at her, a big grin on your face, even though you remembered that this was the drink you were drinking when the universe decided it would be a good idea for you and Dami to have a one-night stand. Just a lovely reminder. “Have you mixed everything up? like the rum with the red wine? or with red drink you just want to say you bought wine?” You asked, ignoring your internal conflicts. Everything would be fine, you ket repeating to yourself.

“In fact, I remember once hearing you comment you didn't mind it being mixed up in a random bottle.”

She pulled a glass bottle out of a bucket full of ice and you couldn't believe she remembered that; given that you could count on your fingers the times that you had actually spoken to her. You didn’t avoid each other, just didn’t have much of the opportunities.

“Oh my god, that’s so fuckin’ lovely.” You whispered. She was quick to pick up a glass and hand it to you, filling it with the so well remembered liquid. You took a sip, and the taste - or alcohol - made your butterflies calmer. “Thanks for that, tastes like heaven.” She took a glass for herself, by her expression she thought it was a waste of rum. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”

“If you think so, who am I to deny.”

“Don’t be a bummer,” you bumped your shoulder with hers, eliciting a cute sound from her that made you laugh as well.

You wish that sensation had lasted longer, even so when a random girl approached you to ask something, you felt heavy; like a sign. Her hair was golden in perfect waves and her face was angelic in an almost divine way. You might have been overreacting, but she was the type to catch all the attention to herself.

“You’re Y/N, right? I was startin’ to think that I’d never get to know you.” She hugged you tight and you wondered if she really didn't know you. When she released you, you felt your heart breaking right there in front of her. She was wearing Dami's sweater; the same one from that night, the same one that you wore. You wanted to be wrong, but you’d know that sweater from a distance even after years. “He talks so much about you. Can you believe we never met?” She asked, alternating her gaze between you and Victoria. She had been silent, you had forgotten that she was still there. Your head was miles away in thoughts, making you dizzy.

“Hi, Bella,” Victoria said. You remembered that name. Damiano talked about her on a few occasions, anyways he didn't seem to be in love - or you just didn’t want to see that. Maybe you haven’t been able to read him due to your stupid passion. “How’s everything?”

She started talking to Victoria and you couldn't concentrate on listening; all the alcohol in the world would not ease what you were feeling. How long have they been together? What was so special about her that Damiano gives her his favorite sweater? Were they together when you slept together? How did she end up with the same sweater you slept in that day?

She held the cup that was in your hands and handed it to Victoria. “Are you okay, hon’? You look a lil’ unwell. Do you want me to get you some water?”

“No need, I’m alright,” she patted your arm, and then checked your temperature. She was being nice, yet you couldn't pretend to be interested in being there anymore.

Thankfully, Victoria put an arm around your shoulders, asking if you want to join her to have a smoke. “It’ll be good, fresh air will do good to you.”

You agreed. Bella was worried and you felt bad about having to run away from her. She looked like an incredible person, sure Damiano was lucky to have her, that was just too much for you.

“Do this, you will feel better. We can talk later and so you can tell me everything about you and Dami, I’d love to hear you, since you’ve known each other for so long.” You looked for some irony in her voice, but you didn't found it. She was interested in you; after all, you were her boyfriend's best friend. It made sense.

Victoria guided you to the balcony, or at least halfway to it. Midway, someone stopped to talk to her, she tried to dismiss the person, however, as it was a thing related to the album, she would have no way out. “Victoria, it’s fine, I need some time alone.” You whispered to her, patting on her arm. She looked at you reluctantly, but understand. There wouldn't be much she could do for you.

Entering the balcony you felt an absurd urge to cry, your eyes itched and your legs were trembling. Was being in love meant to hurt this much, or was it just a game of chance?

You tried to take a deep breath, ease your heartbeats, telling yourself it was okay. You just needed to calm down. You leaned your body against the wall and watched the place. The plants near the fence - which you didn't know how Victoria had time to take care of them - the streets, and then the sky. Starry and moist, made for good memories that wouldn't come to you. When you felt ready enough to go out and face the party again, you ran into the one you were trying to avoid, Dami. Minutes ago you were anxious with the possibility to see him to know how he was, now you just wanted to run away and wipe these last months out of your mind.

“Y/N,” his body collided with yours while his arms wrapped around you, it was supposed to be a good thing, that you‘d feel safe as the same way you used to feel, except that was uncomfortable now. You couldn't even respond to his hug, for a second you thought you would escape without having to see him. He noticed and gave you space. “I swore that you wouldn't come. My god, it's so good to see you.” He ran his hands through his hair and you remained paralyzed in front of him.

You tried to focus on your breathing so that your voice came out without too many complications. “Yeah... It's good to see you, you look great.” It didn't work, your voice was shaky making your lie sound even worse. He looks great, you didn't lie, he seemed even happier and well rested. You wondered if it was because the album was ready or because now he had Bella.

You forced a smile, but unlike the others, Damiano knew you were acting. He didn’t judge or question, his face became tense, apprehensive. He knew that nothing was right.

“I thought about callin’ you more, goin’ to see you or something. The boys convinced me that it‘d be better not, that it could be even hard for you. I wonder if I shouldn't have done something different to help you because I know I fucked up too.” His hands were undecided between running through his hair and staying inside his pockets. He was nervous, at the same relieved to have spoken to you.

“It wasn't your fault, I’d never blame you for that,” you sighed, smiling slightly. It felt terrible to make him feel that way about it, but there wasn't much you could do. “I'm glad you gave me space when I asked, it's still hard to see you or think about talkin’ to you. It is as if everything that is tormenting me comes all at once.” It was good to say that to him. He nodded and you looked at each other for a while. It wasn't as uncomfortable as you thought it would be.

He was a few feet away from you while you were admiring the night, with your back against the wall. You wanted to leave, maybe go cry in your bed until you fell asleep, still you wanted things to work out with Dami, you wanted that tension and fear of seeing him to get out of your head. Despite that, if it was necessary to suffer in that process, it would not be worth it.

“She’s amazing,” it hurt to say that, but it was the truth. “Bella’s amazing, lucky girl.” You smiled sadly. Saying her name and seeing Dami smiling at that made you thank God for not seeing the two of them together, hugging or kissing. He‘d probably put his hand on her waist while she was talking to one of his friends or giving lightly kisses to her temple, just because he felt like it. Damiano was the cute type, you've seen it before.

“She is, an amazing person. She was all happy to have spoken to you. I told her all about our teenage years and how you always supported the band,” He had told her about you, would he have told her about you being in love with him? You thought to ask, soon giving up. It’d be shameful if so. “If I knew you would be here I’d not have come with her.” It made you think that he had told her.

“What would you do? Would you hide me from her for the rest of your life?” You sighed. it was supposed to sound like a joke, regrettably your voice sounded too cruel for that.

“It’s not like that,” he mumbled. “I was just tryin’ to think of you and—“

“I think I need to go Dami, it’s being too much. I’m sorry.” You needed to get out of there, you couldn't stop the tears anymore and you knew it was a bad idea to talk about her with him.

You took a few steps back just for Damiano to grab at your arm, without putting strength, just like a few months ago, to stop you in front of him. You turned your face away from looking at his eyes, feeling as the tears run down your cheek. You'd never be able to face him, this situation was only proving that to you even more.

“Please, Y/N. Just tell me what I need to do. I will do anything for you to talk to me again. I need you, you know that. The past few weeks have been a mess without you around. Even little my mom misses you. I’d do anything to have you back like before.” He was about to cry, his eyes shone with tears and it was painful to watch. He could do anything for you to stay; except what would make you stay. Unfortunately, it didn't depend only on his good will.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” you said in a lack of air, signaling the space around you with your finger. “But this, this is too much. It kills me to have to be close to you or to be close to things or people that remind me of you, seeing someone else with you doesn't help at all. I still think about the fact that we slept together... I can’t just forget it ‘cause it meant so much to me and to you, to you? it was nothing.” You were out of breath, you just wanted to cry in peace, put everything out until there was nothing left. 

 He released his hands of you, his face red and damp. It wasn't going to be easy for either of you. Time wouldn't matter; it wouldn’t change a thing because whenever you looked at him you’d wonder about how things could have been like if he had chosen you.

He whispered one more time that he was sorry, then let you go. He could have stopped you, but it's not like he knew what to do anymore. 

He watched as you walk out without even looking back.

——-

You went through the party walking fast, avoiding acquaintances and questions about why you were like that. Your body was heavy as well as your conscience. Outside the house the street was empty, the streetlights illuminated the sidewalk and along with the silence of the street you felt invited to sit there. You brought your knees close to your body, trying to breathe calmly. Pulling the air in, and then releasing it in a normal way. Your heart was beating so fast that your whole body was agitated. You tried to stay still. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling a little dizzy when you saw someone walk out the front door of the house. You dropped your knees, trying to look decent, but gave up as soon as the person came closer to you and you saw that it was Victoria. She sat next to you, pulling you into a hug. You were happy that she went to you.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, hugging her waist and hiding your face in the fabric of her shirt.

“Stop saying that you’re fine when you’re far from being fine, I won’t judge you sweetheart,” she comforted you, giving you a extra squeezing. You were far from being alright, but it helped, having someone there helped.

She placed her chin on top of your head, soothing you until your crying softened. She rubbed your back and whispered that it’d be okay.

“Did Damiano send you here?”

“No, darlin’. He said that you had talked, and then you had to leave, he didn't look well, I thought you wouldn't be either.”

“And then you decided to look out for me?” You laughed, still tucked in her warm arms.

“Yep, sounds like you need me, don’t you think?” She laughed too, causing the vibration of her chest next to yours make you feel taken in.

“Why’s love so painful?”

Victoria didn't answer, she was thoughtful for a few minutes, and then she stood up, holding out her hand for you.

“What?”

“I won’t be taking no as an answer, you’ll get in the car with me and we will do something, anything, drink milk shakes, fill up our bellies with pizza ‘til we can't take it anymore, or even rob a bank.” She held you by the waist, lifting you up for her. “Please,”

You didn't see why not to accept. There was nothing worse that could get even worse at the moment, maybe going somewhere would do you good. “Even rob a bank?” She nodded, pointing to where her car was.

A smile spreading across her lovely face as you realized you’d go anywhere she wanted with her. “Yes, even robbing a bank.”

[softersinned-arc]

"Hm. Pity. What's-his-name kept his pantry well-stocked. I told him I was going to help myself to the coffee, but I don't think he'll mind terribly if I take the tea, too. Is that rude?"

Astoria picks up her cup of tea and her novel and she walks through the house until she's at the living room. It's not her style—too formal, too neat—but the couch, at least, looks comfortable, and she's been eyeing that armchair since she came in. She drops into the armchair without preamble, her legs thrown over one arm and her back against the other, and she lets her feet swing back and forth in time with a song that's been stuck in her head for ages. "Do you listen to the radio? What's the one that goes bada-ba-ba-badada...?"

She should be frightened. The piece of her that still has anything resembling common sense programmed into her certainly is. Either she's drunk on her own power or she's seen enough that real threats just don't faze her any longer, and either option is a dangerous one. Astoria yawns, and she opens the book to where she'd left off, though she doesn't bother returning her attention to the words. "Of course it's a game, sweet thing. I can't imagine what else would bring you here. Because if it's business rather than the pleasure of the hunt I'm going to be much angrier than I already am. You don't get to line your pockets by stealing from mine. And if it's a game, you really should start keeping score, or I'm going to win for sure. And it's no fun if there's no challenge."

A sip of tea, now, the water kept at just the right temperature by the pale glow of her palm against the mug. "As for how this ends, I'm imagining it's one of us dead or maimed. And just between you and me, I'm willing to take my chances. Sit, love. Have a cup of tea. I couldn't tell you where he went even if I wanted to—you think I let him give me any information?" She smiles, eyes a shade too bright, and she shows too many teeth. "Besides, I think we're long overdue for a talk. Don't you?"

She waves a lazy hand toward the kitchen and the water starts to bubble again. After a beat, she extends it to him. "Astoria Grim. I don't believe we've been formally introduced. I'm a Leo. I can tolerate long walks on the beach, but I hate sand in my shoes. I prefer a drive down an empty highway with the music on." She tips her head back to look at him again, and she offers him a sympathetic smile, though her eyes are dancing with mischief. "And I'm a cat person, sorry to say. Will it bother you if I smoke in here?"

But she doesn't wait for an answer, and she wiggles to fish the pack of cigarettes and her lighter out of her pocket. She is, however, polite enough to offer him one before she puts them away. "And you can tell me what the fuck you're still doing here. Had some trouble with werewolves a few months back; figured you were here to handle that. Really, I should have been more proactive before this. That's on me. But pack enforcers rarely do things like leave trails of senseless gore behind them. So like I said, I'm hoping it's for pleasure, because if it's for business that means that I'm going to have to deal with another of you assholes when I finally convince you to maybe try another town. Or am I totally wrong?"

Messy was precisely what Kakashi excelled at. He often tore through one job to the next, taking his assignments in stride. there had been a time when he was more careful, when there was a little more nuance to his craft... but after he realized there was a supernatural clean-up crew, he cared a little less about keeping a low profile. A reputation of corpses torn to pieces followed at his heel & he was digging himself a bottomless grave to share with them. There was a certain brutality to his work; a beastliness to the way he killed. He would be slow to admit how hard it was to control himself when he turned, but his work spoke for itself. It felt as though he was stacking more bodies than he could count. It shouldn't have been surprising when somebody picked up on it. Worked against it. Some evils in their world could not go unanswered.

Honestly, it was infuriating; he could fail only so many assignments before his superiors started asking questions. Before they began to sniff around behind the scenes. He'd already been issued a warning about his productivity & what his continued failure may mean. It had driven him to be careful while digging into his latest assignment. a shapeshifter, a highly valued target, was at the top of his current kill list. usually, they had a very distinct, very rancid smell... the absence of it should have notified him immediately, but he was too wrapped up in his plans to connect the dots. This had to go right, after all.

" It's not a game. " Despite the way his mind races, his words are cool. The woman before him was not a priority - it wasn't often he was asked to hunt a witch. They were too close to human, they lacked any of the valuable parts someone like Kakashi may have. If he were to attack her, there would be no cleanup crew; no secondary team to scrape her remains up & take them to another location. It would ultimately become his problem to keep her death from falling back on him. That was all assuming he could kill her, as he often did. The next words spill from his lips like a criminal charge, " I don't keep score. "

" You have to know this isn't going to end well. " a thinly veiled threat, dancing on the edge of his accusation. He takes in a deep breath, the most prominent response to his racing thoughts. It's time to think decisively; she obviously didn't like what he was doing. But he had to do it. It wasn't like he could afford to keep missing his marks, losing a shapeshifter like this was a major blow.

" If you tell me where the shapeshifter is, we can let this rest. " He ignores her offer; this wasn't a social call, it was supposed to be a quick in & out. He glances around, looking for any potential traps. It was hard telling how long she had been set up in the house, & what sort of confrontation she was looking for. Usually, anyone who interfered stayed out of his direct path; but she seemed to be an exception to the presumption. Maybe a bluff would do the trick, " We can walk away. No bloodshed. No tea. "

[dominique-mini]

@bookwermthings you asked me to describe jack's coat during torchwood so;;; alright lets do that i guess

but listen: im just saying things i know for a fact from the top of my head so YEAH it'll be a bit vague and im not putting photos of the coat here. im terribly sorry but im writing this during my lunch break

OKAY lets begin: first off really quick we gotta talk about the first coat. The greatcoat Jack wore in The Empty Child was actually a REAL historical greatcoat from the 40s! It isn't clear but what it seems is that Jack was intended to be just an one-off character so they thought it would be okay to get a real coat, since they're a relatively common piece to find among ww2 memorabilia ( fun fact: that's why that coat seems a little bit too big for jack, it wasn't actually made to fit him. also because that was some THICC fabric right there but it was definetely too big for him)

the coat wasn't accurate to the year set in the episode (those shoulder boards are not even remotely close to the year 1941) nor to the character. the thing about those coats is that higher-ranking officers had enough money to have one made for them from scratch, those were known as "private purchases". therefore, private purchases tended to differ a lot from the ones produced en-masse since they were made from different tailors chosen by different officers.

the coat jack was wearing had a LOT of unique features about it (i wont even start) so i think it's safe to say it was a private purchase. however, the rank braids (those vertical blue lines in his shoulders) indicate that the coat belonged to a squadron leader, NOT a captain.

with all of this in mind, the first coat is still the most historic accurate greatcoat Jack wears.

moving on, when torchwood began and jack ended up not being an one-off character, they had to make a new coat. using a real historic piece is great for one episode, but it clearly won't last for an entire show. buttons fall, it can rip apart, yadda yadda yadda. besides, a real military coat is too heavy to blow heroically as Jack walks. that didnt actually happen in the 40s sorry to disappoint you.

To design the brand new coat, ray holman (torchwood's costume designer) took inspiration from that first coat, the most notable changes being:

FABRIC: RAF coats were initially made from thick wool bc yknow europe is cold. however, john had some sensorial issues with wool, so they changed to moleskin, which is made out of cotton. it is a much lighter fabric than wool, you can see that looking at the lapel. (another fun fact: for what I noticed with MY eyes, it seems like the coat was designed big enough to fit around a full military uniform. like, the whole thing, not just the shirts he uses throughout the whole show. i wonder what they were planning with that.

BUTTONS: the buttons per say are alright but like. the placement??? was in V shape??? Basically that makes the lapels look narrower and that when it's buttoned, the collar doesn't cover the rows of buttons completely like the real ones did. In MY personal opinion i think it was such a creative addition and it looked amazing, but indeed isn't very historically accurate.

LINING: whilst the old coat was half-linned, more specifically around the upper body, this one has aaaaaaall the lining you can ask for. top to bottom baby those are some LINES. it was made with grey......... thread (dont ask me about materials. i am a history student not a master tailor im just trying to finish eating my lunch in time to come back to work. those lines were GREY and thats all im giving u)

RANKING: they changed the rank braids to the ones used by group captains !!! besides the whole thing is a bit longer than the past one (not creating another point just to say that) not because of any historic reason i think. It's definetely more dramatic, though.

THAT is by far the most famous coat Jack wears, since it's present for Torchwood season 1-3 and all of his appearances in RTD's who

the third coat was created exclusively for Miracle Day, and i wont describe it because it didn't stick for long (and i really just watched miracle day once and analyzed this one almost entirely through low quality GIFs). besides ive only got a few minutes left to swallow my food and run desperately back to my room

so yeah those were the three coats he wore and the main features i could remember right now, i hope my venting wasn't too boring and it genuinely interested you. also sorry about any mistakes in grammar, i didnt revise any of this

[a-wild-person]

A short (not short, I lied) story of why Pokemon Violet and Scarlet looks so bad to me. Especially this building, which looks like one of the main building of the game.

First of all, the different approach on both parts of this building. One is smooth, no harsh lines or shadows, and the other is the opposite. Windows are simply black precise shapes. Looks not put together, where is the lead artist, why is it not coherent? The obviously copy and pasted five columns look so out of place it makes me want to cry. If you want to make it work, everything should follow the same rule, but just under, the windows are blue, detailed, the building have tiny shapes to add to bigger shapes, it's good.

The color of these five stupid collums. Why do they not match the beautiful architecture just under it? This brown is bland, dirty and poor. The color right under is lively, pastel almost, maybe with some orange or pink mixed into it. Not a stupid brown. The lightning effect don't even match. What happened? Why? Did one guy do one part and one guy the other without ever talking to each other? On one of what seems like one of the most important building???

The effects aren't coherent. I've watched the new trailer a couple times over to understand. The lightning of the characters and the world are vastly different. They don't fit in. Character is smooth, no harsh shadows, his own shadow is blue and not black. The tree however, it has barely no transition from light to shadow and the shadow is way too black so it stands out. What you learn when you make an image is that contrast attracts the eye. So you see the tree first. Not the character. Which is dumb.

What do you see? The big thing on the right that towers over the image. The trees. Then the pokemon, that many missed the first time even if it was its very reveal because you don't see it, you see something else.

Now that I look at these two images, I think the lightning problem comes from the fact that the shadows are too dark and inconsistent. The substitute has a blue tinted lighter shadow and the other a harsh black shadow. I've seen it mentionned before, the world mostly need reflective light. It's the light that bounces off evertything and makes it that when you're behind an object and the light doesn't directly lit you, you still see the back of the object: it's not pure black. It's not suddenly night just because you're behind an object. That's reflective light.

If it costs too much to have the calculations run for this kind of light in Pokemon (which really, I am not qualified to tell), they should at least make it less dark and maybe have a colored tint. Shadows often aren't black, and light often isn't white. It's not what you learn when you have education about how to make an image in colors. This looks like screenshots from Pokepark 2.

Which, NEVERMIND, it's not even that dark because they couldn't afford to make reflective light so they made the shadows LESS DARK. THIS GAME IS FROM 2011. I'm sorry, but Pokepark 2 looks better. TEN YEARS APART.

And then I'm just going to say a word on the 3D models. Which are, in my opinion, with the 3D models of the Pokemon themselves, the least terrible looking things of the game.

One. Colors don't match. Maybe it's delibarate, but because I find the 2D artwork much better looking, I think that's a shame. The orange is much brighter, the green accent too, her skin is a little darker, less orange and more cold. It's also a tendancy, they darken the eyes, which makes them pop less.

Especially on this character. The 3D model has very dark makup that the 2D artwork does not have. The eyes do not pop.

I'm quickly going to talk about the hair and the 3D choices they made to adapt the 2D design (which are fire, they are so good omg!!!) They try to make realistic a cartonish style. I'm sure in some ways it could work, but it doesn't, it could be much better. The strength of Pokemon designs are their use of lines and shapes, which are well-defined. Big shapes, beautiful lines that tend to be altered in the 3D models. The hair and its texture is very distracting from the lines. All the tiny hair that you see, how the end of the shape is split like real hair would do, it hurts the deisgn. It's noise that wasn't supposed to be there. The parting of the hair is even lost, because there isn't enough contrast, which completely changes the perseption of the character. It reads like one big messy shape, but is at least 3 in the 2D design.

I personnaly think Pokemon should stick to very Cartoon deisgns and embrace it. It is their strength. However, if they do wish to make it more realistic, it has to be good. I personnaly even think they should stick to 2D, because they are really good at 2D. Pokemon Legends of Arceus had its flaws, but I thought it was alright. Scarlet and Violet are starting to really cross the line for me. They're losing what makes their 2D designs and artwork absolutely stunning and unique. They made 3D games that worked well. Pokemon Let's go Eevee and Pikachu are what I consider is the best 3D they have ever made, in terms of colors, 3D models and lightning. I wish it back.

I'm still wishing for a Pokemon Hollow Knight. Because I think Pokemon could fit very well with the formula.

End of rant.

[babyboyblasty]

CHAPTER 10:

"You look nice, Deku" Uraraka smiled, her hands held behind her back as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet in a childish manner, looking at her green haired friend. "Is there anyone in particular you're trying to impress?" she gave him a knowing look that Izuku stuttered and blushed to.

"No! O-of course not" he immediately denied and averted his eyes when that only seemed to make Uraraka's smirk widen. Izuku knew he was a terrible liar and Uraraka could be very scary sometimes. "But um, hypothetically speaking.. if I /were/ trying to impress someone- which I'm not- but hypothetically speaking do you think they'll.. you know. Be impressed? Hypothetically."

Uraraka looked her friend up and down. Izuku's fashion sense has definitely improved since the beginning of their first year. Both Tsuyu and herself had made sure to teach Deku and Todoroki a thing or two about dressing themselves since they were completely clueless sometimes. Midoriya was wearing brown, cuffed corduroy pants with a forest green oversized short sleeve button up, a lighter green long sleeve underneath that to create layers. The red shoes were never going away though and Uraraka gave up in trying to get him to wear another pair of shoes. He looked good and Uraraka noticed how his hair was a bit neater too so he obviously put a bit of extra effort into trying to style his curls. In fact, looking around the common room it seemed that Deku wasn't the only one who put a little extra effort into their appearance today. Half the boys there looked like they were going off to a party instead of a casual class outing. Even Iida looked like he was trying out a new hairstyle. No glasses either.

"Umm, Uraraka-san?" Izuku waved his hand in front of the girl's face to get her attention. She zoned out for a bit there and she blinked, turning to face him again.

"Oh, right! Well, /hypothetically speaking/ right?" she smiled and he nodded, "I think they'll be very impressed." Deku beamed and her eyes shifted to Todoroki who was just arriving downstairs. "Oh, look! There's Todoroki-kun. Let's go talk" she grabbed Deku's hand in hers and took him with her. He looked very good! Todoroki's aesthetic was more of a simplistic/classy style with neutral colors. This time he decided to switch it up and was wearing a white t-shirt with an unbuttoned, loose fitting pale blue and white striped dress shirt over that. He had black jeans and white sneakers too. He looked very good. "Oooo~ is there anyone /you're/ trying to impress, Todoroki-kun?" Ochako teased.

"Yes."

Ochako didn't expect such a direct answer but giggled anyway at her blunt friend. Deku on the other hand didn't find it as funny.

"Is Bakugou here yet?" Shoto changed the subject and looked around the common room but didn't spot the explosion quirk user anywhere. He felt a little disappointed.

"No, Kacchan isn't here. Neither is Kirishima-kun" Izuku really tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone. He knew that they were best friends but did they really have to be glued at the hip 24/7? Deku doesn't like the way he starts to feel when he thinks of those two together but he can't help it.

"Oh" Shoto mumbled. There was an awkward silence where no one said anything for a few seconds until Uraraka couldn't stand it and broke it.

"So how are you feeling, Todoroki-kun? Are you still tired or are you feeling a bit better from earlier?" Ochako questioned. That got Izuku's attention and he turned to Todoroki with a curious expression. Was he sick? Todoroki didn't mention anything to him today. He wondered why he didn't tell him.

"I feel better, thank you. I'm excited to be going out with my friends" he smiled briefly and Izuku returned it. After that things started to go back to normal as they talked about what stores they wanted to go to and if they had anything in particular they wanted to buy. The common room was filled with brief conversation before the 'ding' of the elevator was heard and everyone turned to look at a nervous Kirishima standing on the far opposite side of a bored looking Bakugou. Izuku felt a knot form in his throat and Todoroki felt his heart skip a beat, their faces heating up a little at what girl Kacchan was wearing. He looked good. Hell, even if he was in his normal body and wore that he'd look good.

"You're here!" Mina rushed forward to hug her two friends in a crushing hug which Kirishima gladly returned. The girls may or may not be feeling smug at how everyone reacted to seeing Bakugou. Yeah, they did that.

"I said I would go with you extras, didn't I? Now let go, pinky" Bakugou groaned. She smiled wide before stepping back.

"This'll be so much fun!" Mina jumped up and down.

"Everyone please form a single file line for attendance! As class president I must make sure everyone is accounted for before we vacate school grounds" Iida made sure to grab everyone's attention by speaking loud and clear as well as waving his arms about. Where he pulled the clipboard from no one knows but Iida started to check off names in the class roster to submit to Aizawa sensei once they come back in a few hours. "Alright. Everyone is here. We can go now" he nodded in confirmation.

The class had to take the bus to go to the mall so Iida stayed by the door until everyone was inside before going in himself. Bakugou was planning to sit with Kirishima but the redhead as soon as he was in the bus went and sat beside Sero instead. Katsuki was confused since they always sit together and even Sero was looking between the pair in confusion. "You don't mind, right Bakubro?" Kirishima awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Bakugou just shrugged and moved on to find an empty seat to which Kirishima let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"What was that?" Sero questioned once Bakugou was out of earshot.

"What was what?" Kirishima turned to him.

"That. You always sit with Bakugou so why all of a sudden did you decide to sit next to me? I don't mind but I was a little caught off guard, man. You know, you've been acting weird ever since the night we played games in my room. Is everything cool?" Sero had an idea of what was happening but he wanted to hear it from Kiri himself.

"Yeah, everything's good. I just need to sort some things out for myself first" he explained and Sero nodded, leaving it at that. Kirishima appreciated that about Sero. He knew if it was Mina or Kaminari they wouldn't stop pestering him about it. Kirishima just wanted some time to hopefully figure out why he was all of a sudden feeling so weird around Katsuki.

On the other end of the bus, towards the back, Bakugou found an empty seat. Everyone else seemed to be already sitting with someone else but he didn't really mind it. Once seated, Bakugou put his elbow up on the edge of the window and looked outside. He felt someone slightly tap his shoulder though and looked up to a shy Koda. 'May I sit here?' he signed and Bakugou raised an eyebrow. He rolled his eyes and signed back 'go for it' and Koda smiled a little, quickly sitting down beside Bakugou. Aizawa did mention that because of his quirk, he may experience hearing loss in the future if he didn't take the proper precautions so Bakugou has been taking JSL classes from Koda since the beginning of their second year and developed a somewhat mutual understanding with the guy. He really wasn't all that bad, just a little quiet. And while they weren't friends friends, Bakugou knew that if he ever needed a quiet place to study or just hang out for a bit without talking, he could go to Koda's room. The same went for Bakugou. If Koda ever wanted to spar or wanted pointers to help in improving his fighting skills, Bakugou is available.

Now that everyone had a seat, the bus began to move. The ride was going to take approximately fifteen to twenty minutes so he just wanted to use the break to relax. Bakugou could tell Koda wanted to say something based on the way he would look at him every few minutes but then look away though. "What is it?" he finally asked a little less than halfway into the trip and Koda shook his head. "I know you want to say something, now what is it?"

Koda looked hesitant at first but then signed 'how are you feeling?' with a sincere look. Maybe if it was someone else Bakugou would have told them off for getting into his business but Koda was someone who earned his respect and admiration throughout their time together in UA and who he saw as an equal.

"Why do you ask?" he asked instead, a bit defensive, and Koda responded by signing 'this is a big change and I was just wondering how you were doing.' Bakugou shrugged. "It isn't something I can't handle. Besides, today is the last day of the quirk so I should be back to normal by tomorrow morning" Bakugou mumbled, adding in a "thanks" as an afterthought. Honestly speaking, Koda has been the only one who's asked him how he felt about this whole quirk situation. The rest of his classmates all just seemed to be having fun with it and while he didn't mind, it was nice to be asked.

'You're always welcome to come hang out with me and my bunny if you ever need quiet time,' Koda offered. 'He told me he misses the angry blonde boy with the warm hands" he joked. Bakugou smirked a little with a "tch, sure whatever. Tell 'im I miss the furball too" leaving his lips. After that Bakugou and Koda fell into a comfortable silence where Bakugou closed his eyes to rest for the few minutes they had left on the bus ride.

Everyone else in class 3-A never thought they'd see the day where they all wished they were in Koda's place. The anivoice boy was sitting perfectly still so as to not wake the pretty blonde that had leaned his head on the other's shoulder sometime along the trip and was now sleeping peacefully on him.

[word count: 1775]

( this fan art isn't in correlation with the story chapter but oH MY GOD LOOK HOW PRETTY GIRL BAKUGOU IS- 😩)

[thewidowsghost]

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 4

(Y/n)'s POV

We tear through the night along dark country roads. Wind slams against the Camaro. Rain lashes the windshield. I don't know how Mom can see anything, but she keeps her foot on the gas pedal.

Every time there is a flash at lightning, I look back at Grover sitting beside Percy in the back seat and for a few moments, I wonder if I'd gone insane, or if he is wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants. But no, the smell is one I remember from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo - lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

The only thing it seems Percy could say is, "So, you and my mom . . . know each other?"

Grover's eyes flit to the rearview mirror, though there are no cars behind us. "Not exactly," he says. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?" Percy asks.

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he adds hastily. "I am your friend."

"Um . . . what are you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now," Grover answers.

"It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey -"

Grover lets out a sharp, throaty, "Blaa-ha-ha! Goat!" he cries.

"What?" Percy asks.

"I'm a goat from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter."

"Blaa-ha-ha! Some satyrs would trample you underhoof for such an insult!"

"Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. You mean like...Mr. Brunner's myths?"

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?"

"So you admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!" Percy says accusingly.

"Of course."

"Then why -"

"The less the two of you knew, and weren't together as much, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover says like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination, Percy. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are."

"Who we - wait a moment, what do you mean?" I ask, highly confused.

The weird bellowing noise rises again somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever is changing us still on our trail.

"(Y/n), Percy," Mom says, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."

"Safety from what? who's after us?" Percy asks.

"Oh, nobody much," Grover asks, obviously still miffed about Percy's donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

I let out a soft noise of disbelief and Mom glances over at me before yelling, "Grover!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?"

I try to wrap my mind around what is happening, but I can't do it. I know this isn't a dream. Even I, with a vivid imagination, could never dream up something this weird.

Mom makes a hard left. We swerve onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and 'PICK YOU OWN STRAWBERRIES' signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going?" Percy asks.

"The summer camp I told you about," Mom's voice is tight; she is trying for our sakes not to be scared. "The place you want to send you."

"The place you didn't us to go," Percy asks and I swallow thickly.

"Please, dear," my mother begs and just the desperation in her voice makes tears well up in my eyes. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're both in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut yarn," Percy says.

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover says. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means—the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to...when someone's about to die."

"Whoa. You said 'you.'"

"No, I didn't. I said 'someone.'"

"You meant 'you.' As in me."

"I meant you, like 'someone.' Not you, you."

"Boys!" my Mom yells.

She pulls the wheel hard to the right, and I get a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid - a dark fluttering shape now lost behind us in the storm.

Percy's POV

"What was that?" (Y/n) asks, fear creeping into her voice.

"We're almost there," my mother says, ignoring my sister's question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please."

I didn't know where there is happened, but I find myself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to arrive.

Outside, nothing but rain and darkness—the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island. I think about Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she'd changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings. My limbs go numb from delayed shock. She really hadn't been human. She'd meant to kill me.

Then I think about Mr. Brunner...and the sword he had thrown me. Before I can ask Grover about that, the hair rises on the back of my neck. There is a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom! and our car explodes.

(Y/n)'s POV (Again)

I feel weightless like I'm being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time, and my head slams against the dashboard.

Stars erupt before my eyes and I hear Mom yell, as if in a long tunnel, "Percy! (Y/n)!"

"I'm okay . . ." I hear Percy say.

I try to shake off my daze, as blood drips down into my eyes. The car had swerved into a ditch. Our driver's-side doors are wedged in the mud. The roof had cracked open like an eggshell and rain is pouring in.

Lighting. That is the only explanation. We'd been blasted off the road.

My head, feeling as though it was made of lead, I lift my head and it falls against the head-rest.

"Percy, (Y/n)," Mom says, "we have to . . ." Her voice falters.

My head lolls back, and in a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, I see a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it makes my skin crawl. It is a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seems to be holding a blanket over his head; his top half is bulky and fuzzy, and his upraised hands make it looks as though he has horns.

I swallow thickly, "Who is -"

"Percy, (Y/n)," my mother interupts, deadly serious. "Get out of the car."

Mom throws herself against the driver's-side door. It is jammed shut in the mud; Percy tries his as well.

"Climb out the passenger's side!" Mom tells the two of us. "Percy, (Y/n) - you have to run. Do you see that big tree?"

"What?" Percy asks.

Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof I see the tree that she means: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," my mom says. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

"Mom, you're coming too," I say softly.

Mom's face is pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean.

"No!" Percy shouts. "You are coming with us. Help me carry Grover!"

"Food!" Grover groans, a little louder.

"He doesn't want me or Grover," my mother tells me. "He wants the two of you. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

"But . . ." I start to argue.

"We don't have time. Go. Please."

"We're going together," I say, slamming my shoulder against the door.

Together, the three of us escort Grover, stumbling up the hill through wet waist-high grass.

Glancing back, I get my first clear look at the monster. He is seven feet tall, easily, his arms and legs like something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine. He wears no clothes except underwear; the top half of his body is so scary. Coarse brown hair starts at about his belly button and gets thicker as it reaches his shoulder.

His neck is a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns - enormous black-and-white horns with points you just can't get from an electric sharpener.

I blink the rain out of my eyes, "That's -"

"Pasiphae's son," Mom interupts. "I wish I'd known how badly they wanted to kill you."

"But he's the Min -" Percy begins.

"Don't say his name," she warns. "Names have power."

The pine tree is still way too far - a hundred yards uphill at least.

I glance behind me again.

The bull-man hunches over our car, looking in the windows - or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I'm not really sure why he bothered, since we're only about fifty feet away.

"Food?" Grover moans again.

"Shhh," Percy hisses. "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?"

"His sight and hearing are terrible," she says. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough."

As if on cue, the bull-man bellows in rage. He picks up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raises the car over his head and throws it down the road. It slams into the wet asphalt and skids in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop; the gas tank explodes.

Not a scratch, I remember Gabe saying. Oops.

"Percy, (Y/n)," our mom says. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way - directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

"How do you know all this?" I ask, fear creeping into my voice again.

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping the two of you near me."

"Keeping me near you?" Percy asks. "But -"

Another bellow of rage and the Minotaur starts tromping uphill.

He'd smelled us.

The pine tree is only a few more yards, but the hill is getting steeper and slicker, and Grover isn't getting any lighter.

The Minotaur closes in. Another few seconds and he'd be on top of us.

Mom must've been exhausted, but she shouldered Grover. "Go, Percy, (Y/n)! Separate! Remember what I said."

I didn't want to split up, but I have the feeling she is right - it's our only chance. I sprint to the left, turn, and sees the creature bearing down on me; his black eyes glowing with hate. He reeks like rotten meat.

He lowers his head and charges, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at my chest.

The fear in my stomach makes me want to bolt, but that wouldn't work. I could never outrun this thing. So I hold my ground, and at the last moment, I leap to the side.

The bull-man storms past like a freight train then bellows with frustration and turns, but not towards me this time, towards Percy, whose standing in between my mom and Grover, and me.

We'd reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side, I can see a valley, just as Mom had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. But It is half a mile away; we'd never make it.

The bull-man grunts, pawing the ground. He keeps eyeing Percy, whose eyes are wide. I sprint towards my brother as the Minotaur charges at him. I dive forward, knocking Percy over as the horns were mere inches from his chest.

The bull-man lets out a roar of anger then eyes Mom, who was just setting Grover down in the grass.

He keeps eyeing Mom, who is now retreating downhill, back towards the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover.

"Run!" she tells me. "I can't go any farther. Run!"

But I stand there, frozen in fear, as the monster charges at her. She tries to sidestep, as she'd told me to do so, but the monster had learned his lesson. His hand shoots out and grabs her by the neck as she tries to get away. He lifts her as she struggles, kicking and pummeling the air.

"Mom!" I cry, stepping towards the monster.

She catches my eyes, which are welling with tears, and managed to choke out one last word: "Go!"

Then, with an angry roar, the monster closes his fists around my mother's neck, and she dissolves before mine and Percy's eyes, melting into light, a shimmering golden form as if she's a holographic projection. A blinding flash and she is simply . . . gone.

"No!" Percy wails, collapsing to his knees.

Anger replaces my fear; newfound strength burns in my limbs.

The bull-man hunches over Grover, whose lying helpless in the grass. The monster hunches over, snuffling my brother's best friend, as though he were about to lift Grover and make him dissolve too.

I strip off my red rain jacket.

"Hey!" I scream, waving the jacket, running to the one side of the monster, Percy doing the same with his own red jacket. "Hey, stupid! Ground beef!"

"Raaaarrrr!" the monster turns towards me, shaking his meaty fists.

I had an idea - a stupid idea, but better than no idea at all. I put my back to the big pine tree and wave my red jacket in front of the Minotaur, thinking I'd jump out of the way at the last moment.

But it doesn't happen like that.

The bull-man charges too fast, his arms out to grab me whichever way I try to dodge.

Time seems to slow down as my legs tense. I can't jump sideways, so I leap straight up, kicking off from the creature's head, using it as a springboard, turning in midair, and landing on his neck.

How did I do that? I wonder. I didn't have time to figure it out. A millisecond later, the monster's head slams into the tree, and the impact nearly knocks my teeth out.

The bull-man staggers around, trying to shake me. I lock my arms around his horns to keep from being thrown. Thunder and lightning are still strong; the rain is still in my eyes. The smell of rotten meat bringing my nostrils.

The monster shakes himself around and bucks like a rodeo bull. He should have just backed into the tree and smashed me flat, but I am starting to realize that this thing has only one gear: forward.

Meanwhile, Grover starts groaning in the grass. I want to yell at him to shut up, but by the way, I am getting tossed around, if I opened my mouth, I'd bite my tongue off.

As if reading my mind, Percy does yell at Grover, but Grover just groans, "Food!" again.

The bull-man wheels toward him, paws the ground again, and gets ready to charge. I think about how he had squeezed the life out of my mother, made her disappear in a flash of light, and rage fills me like high-octane fuel. I get both hands around one horn and I pull backward with all my might. The monster tenses; gives a surprised grunt, then—snap!

Percy's POV

The bull-man screams and flings my sister through the air. She lands flat on her back in the grass. Her head smacks on a rock. I catch sight of a horn in (Y/n)'s hand and I dart over, grabbing it out of her hands and roll to one side as the monster charges. As the monster barrels past, I drive the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.

The bull-man roars in agony; he flails, clawing at his chest, then begins to disintegrate - not like my mother, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart.

The monster is gone.

The rain had stopped. The storm still rumbles, but only in the distance. I smell like livestock, and my knees are shaking.

I stick my hand out and pull my sister up from the ground.

My head feels like it is splitting open, and it doesn't help as I look at the back of my sister's head, which was bleeding heavily. I feel weak and scared and trembling with grief. I'd just seen my mother vanish. I want to lie down and cry, but there is Grover, who my sister had stumbled her way towards and was trying to lift the limp figure on her own. Both my sister and my best friend need my help, so I manage to haul him up and my sister and I stagger down into the valley.

(Y/n)'s POV

The pain in my head was almost blinding - from it slamming against the dashboard and the rock - and I hear Percy crying out from our mother, but we both hold onto Grover - neither of us letting go.

The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me, moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern faces of a bearded man and a pretty girl, her blond hair curled like a princess's. They both look down at me and Percy, and the girl says, "They're the ones. They must be."

"Silence, Annabeth," the man says. "They're still conscious. Bring them inside."

Word Count: 2896 words

[doyelikehaggis]

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Reggie Peters x Luke Patterson (Julie and the Phantoms)

Requested by @trinadega-icetea

"Okay, nearly done, nearly done," Reggie mutters under his breath. He narrows his eyes, staring at the striped candles.

Somewhere behind him is Julie, Alex, and Flynn. Their whispers about his sanity aren't as quiet as they think. Or seem to care.

Taking a step back, Reggie takes in the state of situation. The cake is ready, baked, slathered with frosting and sprinkles, and has eighteen candles sticking out of it. Wait.

He steps forward again, quickly counting the candles. It takes two attempts because he keeps forgetting which ones he's already counted, and he ends up deciding to add one more purple one because there seems to be an uneven amount that is not adding up to eighteen.

"Okay, I'm asking," Flynn finally says, her voice rising to a normal volume. "Why exactly is Reggie attempting to bake? Is he quitting the band?"

"It's Luke's birthday," Alex informs her.

"Yeah, but won't he be at his parents' house?" Julie asks. "Like last year?"

"It's different now," Alex starts to explain. "See, before we died--"

But he's cut off by the sound of the garage door opening. Reggie's eyes widen. He does a quick once-over of the cake again, but it's too late to make any further adjustments, and honestly, he's not sure anything could make it look better at this point anyway.

"Hey, guys!" Luke greets, already shrugging his denim jacket off, not looking at them. "Being alive is tiring. I actually miss being able to just poof wherever I wanna go without having to, you know, walk."

Reggie picks up the plate with the cake on it and walks over to Luke. He waits for him to turn around, which he does, then stops.

Luke's quiet. He sees the cake. Reggie can tell he sees the cake, because it's right in his direct line of sight, and he's just kinda staring at it.

"I, uh . . ." Procuring a gas lighter from his back pocket, Reggie fidgets with it, rolling up onto the balls of his feet and back onto his heels. "I just kinda figured now that we're alive again, and can actually eat real food, that . . . Well."

Luke's still very quiet, and usually Alex is the anxious one of them all, but right now Reggie's really feeling some of that energy. Maybe he overstepped. Too soon.

But then Luke's face breaks out into a wide smile. The cake is lopsided, slathered with a store bought buttercream frosting and sprinkles. And Reggie is willing to admit that it looks terrible, even by his standards.

But Luke is staring at it now like it's the best cake he's ever seen. He lifts his eyes to him, and the look of pure joy and fondness doesn't disappear.

"You remember?" Reggie prompts with a soft chuckle.

Luke joins him, laughing as he nods. "Of course I do. I just . . . I wasn't expecting . . . Wow. Um."

Reggie smiles, so much his face hurts, and gives the lighter a little wave. "Want me to light them?"

"Yeah, go ahead," Luke says. He's biting his bottom lip, just staring at the cake with this little furrow in his eyebrows and that smile.

As Reggie lights all eighteen (thank god he added that extra one) candles, Alex answers Julie's and Flynn's confused expressions.

"Luke's first birthday after he ran away from home, we wanted to try and cheer him up," Alex says quietly, leaning closer to them, his eyes and smile on Reggie and Luke. "We didn't have much money, but Reggie figured we had enough to get some stuff to make a birthday cake for him. He made the whole thing, said he remembered some recipe. It tasted disgusting, but . . . "

All the candles lit, Reggie holds the cake out to Luke expectantly. "Make a wish," he jokes.

Luke smiles back at him, and takes a moment before he blows out the candles.

"What did you wish for?" Reggie asks sarcastically, giving a waggle of his eyebrows. "Teleportation skills?"

"He can't tell you, then it won't come true!" Flynn protests.

Luke's smile just widens. He glances over at the three of them before his gaze drifts back to Reggie, and he shakes his head.

"I didn't need to wish for anything," he says, and Reggie's heart flips, and he knows he's grinning unbearably as Luke continues to repeat the same words from twenty-six years ago. "I've already got everything."

"Except for teleportation skills," Reggie says.

Luke laughs, shaking his head again, hair flopping slightly, and he steps forward, ignoring the cake between them as he reaches out to wrap a hand gently around the back of Reggie's neck and pull him in to meet him in the middle for a kiss.

Smiling, Alex shrugs, softly saying, "It didn't matter to him, because he knew how hard Reggie was trying to make it perfect, for him."

"Guess some things don't change," Julie murmurs as Flynn does her best to stifle her squeal, linking arms with Julie in her effort to suppress herself.

Luke pulls back, looking at Reggie. "I love you." He then peers over Reggie's shoulder with a smirk, and adds, "I love you guys, too!"

They all finally join, exchanging actual happy birthday's with Luke, flopping onto the couch and slicing the cake up. In Reggie's humble opinion, it has improved since the last one. Not everyone agrees, but the cake (and the bickering over whether or not Reggie put enough sugar in) keeps a smile on Luke's face, and has him leaning into his side to press his laughter into his shoulder, and that was always the goal.

So, yeah, the cake's bad, but it did exactly what it was meant to do, just like the first one. Just give Luke a little moment of happiness. And that moment stretches out for hours, and the cake's nearly all gone, and Luke truly looks more alive than Reggie's ever seen him on his birthday since that one twenty-six years ago.

[alwaysforyouscully]

My X-FEST 2 Experience!

Friends and followers this was truly a pleasure. I was only able to go on Saturday but my X-Files heart is full with great memories!

Here's my recap on one excellent day, we (my daughter and I) got our passes and went to the hotel restaurant to eat breakfast. I heard Mitch before I say him. He was at the table next to us and about 15 minutes later Nick came down and joined him. I never thought the back of their heads would be exciting but...

Anyhoo... we go inside the hall and everyone is in their booth. This was really well organized, plenty of space and easy access to whomever you wanted to see. Everyone when straight to the Gunmen and Nick so I went to Sheila:

I was her first autograph of the day and she was sorry she only had a black pen. She asked her assistant if she should have a lighter pen. I said it's no problem just meeting her was great. She said "I hate this picture." I said oh no, it's how I'll always remember you and she said "You know I still have this jacket in my closet." I was like really, do you ever wear it? And we both laughed, I'm not sure why? Lol 😂

Next I went to see Annabeth:

There were a few folks in line and when it was my turn for an autograph, she looked up and saw my shirt. She said "That's me! Where did you get this?" I told her off the internet and she grabbed her phone and told her assistant to take a picture. Just a note, she is lovely! And from this point forward we will have the 'That's Annabeth' count. This is 1.

When I walked into my photo op she grabbed my hand and said "It's you! I sent our picture to my husband and he said where did she get that? It's great!" Again she is a freaking gem!

Okay next was Mitch. As most of you know in April of 2018 I went to South Texas CC to see Mitch and he got the flu and cancelled 😣. My daughter felt so bad for me that she sent him a message on Twitter. He sent her a PM back and said he would send me some cool stuff...he did and after his last message to her he deleted his Twitter. So on to current day.

I get in line and my daughter is at a side table organizing my pictures. The lovely @jenniferalarza painted a piece for me plus I had JJ Lendl's "Kitten" poster for him to sign. When I got to the table I showed Mitch the envelope of all the things he mailed me last April. He was shocked and said "You came all the way here from Texas?" (He remembered 🤗 ) I told him I had to meet him and pointed to my daughter and said she's the one that sent you the message, then you quit sm. He was looking at the painting and without looking up he said, "Yep, she's the reason I quit." He laughed and I said she really thinks it's true. He came around the table and without slowing down, he headed towards her saying "I'm going to tell her it was because of her that I quit" He got to her and I couldn't hear what he said but she flushed and kind of teared up. Next he pulled her into a hug and headed back to the signing table. He signed both pieces then stopped. He said "She really thought she was the reason? Damn, I'm so sorry." Now I was tearing up. 😥

Mitch was the last photo op on Saturday and I still had 3 tickets left. My daughter and I decided to each take one individually and one together. Mitch saw us and we did the group pic first. He put his arms around us and said "We finally made it!" Yes Mitch, we did. Thanks 😘

Mark Snow was next to Frank Spotnitz and both of their lines were consistent but not too long. I owed the beautiful @dontpointdownthere a favor so we went to Mark next.

The favor was to ask about the song playing on the jukebox in "Dreamland ll" when Mulder and Joann, then Morris and Joann are at the bar. I asked Mark if he knew the song and he couldn't remember so he called over to Frank and asked him. I described it as best I could but Frank couldn't remember either. Sad news for @dontpointdownthere . 😥

I went to Mark's panel and I got the lyrics in the mean time. Frank was at the panel too so I showed him the lyrics and he took a picture with his phone. I met back up with Mark later and showed him the lyrics and along with the folks in line we tried to jar his memory. No joy but it was fun trying!

After the lunch break it was off to the Lone Gunmen. Again @jenniferalarza did a beautiful piece for me, so on to the signing:

Tom was first, he was very sweet and loved the painting. After folks in line heard it was fanart, they all wanted to see it. Everyone was very impressed!

Bruce was next and he was, umm, more like Byers than I thought he would be. First words upon seeing my shirt, "That's Annabeth" (that makes 2) He looked at the picture then asked my name. He said "This is really good, lots of fan art isn't, lots and lots are terrible." He started to sign and put my name at the top then stopped and signed his name at the bottom. "Oops! I forgot what I was going to say." Oh well, guess we'll never know Bruce!

Dean was last and his line had been the longest most of the day. I heard him talking with a fan while I was waiting for Mitch and he was telling her how he does pet portraits now. He even pulled out his phone and gave her an impromptu art show! Lol When I walked up he said "Hi! Is this Annabeth? (#3) and I said sure is. So I handed him the painting and he was about to sign then asked "Is this a print on canvas?" I told him it was the original and he was upset about signing it. I said no, please sign it, that's why my friend painted it for me so the three of you could sign it! He was just floored and started asking how much it cost, was it commissioned, how much was shipping from Spain and on and on. He said "I'm doing portraits now so I need to know these things."

His photo op was the last of the Lone Gunmen. The lines for the photos went super fast. Each person was given a 15 minute slot and none used all of the time. I went in and he said "That really is Annabeth!" No joke (this was 4). And just before we took the picture the photographer said hold up a second we're moving a little fast. Talk amongst yourselves. Dean said "So, Annabeth huh? You got this off the internet? I don't know if this really looks like her. Look at that chin, her skin is too dark, the forehead is all wrong. You know it doesn't really look like her at all." (I'm counting this as 5) I laughed and said, I guess not but she liked it. "Oh gosh, she's seen it?" Yep and she took a picture of it too! By now the photographer was ready and off I went.

Nick's photo op was after the Gunmen:

I walked in and I shit you not he said "That's Annabeth!" (Up to 6) Yes, she really loved it. He put his hand out to shake mine "What's your name, we haven't met today" I said, No not yet, you've been too busy. "For you? Never." I did swoon, just saying because the gray scruff is working for him.

While I waited for the photo my daughter went to his table to wait in line, when I got there she was the only one there so perfect timing. He showed up about 10 minutes later and we walked up. He greeted my daughter and there was a card on the table for the 'I wanna believe' X-Files parody show and she asked if he'd seen it. He said "Not yet but it's going to be on YouTube so I'll watch it later." My daughter told him it was worth his time and really funny. I told him Krycek had an important role so he needed to check it out 😊! He signed my picture and called over to Annabeth, she was next to him, "Hey, you saw this?" pointing to my shirt. She said "Yes, isn't it fantastic!" (I'm counting this as 7)

Chris Owens was my last autograph of the day:

This guy is priceless, so warm and funny. He was telling a story about David to another fan when we walked up. He told them that David had called him to come back for S11 because he wouldn't have to put all that shit on his face this time! Lol I guess that worked 😂!

I picked the Postmodern Prometheus pic for him to sign and said I know it's not your best face but I loved this episode. He laughed and said "don't be so sure, this was one of my best." He got up from the table and gave me a hug. I was just in shock by his kindness!

That's finally it folks. A great day all around and an Annabeth shirt that will never live down it's fame!

Thanks for a great day X-Fest2!

And don't forget to check out @iwannabelieveparody 's YouTube channel to see this awesome show!

[the-firebird69]

I BOUGHT Amazon's CHEAPEST and MOST EXPENSIVE ATVs

They didn't do a real quad challenge but these things are cheap I mean they're under $1,000 and they go pretty good and the small one goes like 40 miles an hour and if you put it on a small scooter like the one that our son sent to Ken to retrofit and he just looked at the picture you get 55 mph and it's a true automatic and all you do is bolt it on and people are looking at it and they don't want to buy that but you can buy the motor so now they're going to go ahead and do it the motor is $150 it's a very good deal a lot of people are going to try and get it registered themselves and it will start up a process that was done before the Chinese might change it up and the thing is going to be selling like hotcakes he looked at that before so it was cool and it's bigger it's bigger it's not huge it doesn't look like this silly scooters they look terrible all of them are little homo jobs

Thor Freya

As a car they're pretty good the big ones better and it's a new name and new brand and it is a 150cc for like $2,000 and it works very nicely with your guys on them they're decent and we're going to try and make a lot of them tons of people want to use them and top speed off road is about 55 miles an hour on the road it's about 60 but if you put on Enduro tires is about 80 mph it's an automatic and so is the small one that's why you put them on the moped thing so scooter that is scooter chopper

We're proving these ideas but really people are buying these now and they're doing it for the scooter and it was a woman in California who wanted one right away it was Lily and she said it's the downtown little four wheeler and she looked and you can find the motor if you can figure out what it is and if she did and she's trying to bolt it on and she got it and she can't figure out how to do it no she can it's easy she said all you do is line it up and you put the chain on after and attention is already there and she said this thing is awesome with that motor with the automatic you put it in drive and it's got like three gears it goes about 65 mph with her on it and she weighed about 150 lb usually she weighs about 110 lb and she looks like a 12-year-old child but no she looks older but it goes when she's lighter cuz she tried it about a hot about 75 miles an hour and people need that it's going to go 40 or 50 miles an hour but people still like it cuz it works it goes fast enough around here until 55 with our son on it he's lost some weight which is good and it's still losing a little he'll be down to 240 shortly he's not eating like a pig

Olympus